


A Poppy Grows in The Vinkus

by elphabaoftheopera



Category: The Wicked Years Series - Gregory Maguire, Wicked - All Media Types, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Brother-Sister Relationships, Coming of Age, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Growing Up, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mutual Pining, Old Friends, Original Character(s), POV Female Character, Personal Growth, Pining, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Royalty, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Teen Crush, Teenage Dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 76,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28909026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elphabaoftheopera/pseuds/elphabaoftheopera
Summary: Years after falling in love at Shiz, getting married, and moving to The Vinkus to begin their lives as king and queen, Elphaba and Fiyero Tigelaar appear to have struck the perfect balance for their life. However, this is not their story. This coming-of-age tale is about their daughter, Poppy Tigelaar. The bright and confident Poppy has always had a clear sense of what she wants. However, time and circumstances begin to make the vision that she has for her future hazier. Through trusting her own instincts and relying on those closest to her, she must find her own balance as she navigates family, ambition, and a profound romance found in an unlikely place. [AU Booksical. Pairings: OC x OC & Fiyeraba.]
Relationships: Elphaba Thropp/Fiyero Tigelaar, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Trism bon Cavalish/Liir (Wicked)
Kudos: 9





	1. Andris Repair

**Author's Note:**

> ◈Alternate Universe: In this AU, Elphaba and Fiyero are married and have been ruling The Vinkus as king and queen since they graduated from Shiz. They have two grown children, Liir and Poppy Tigelaar. The family lives in the castle that resides in Vilnius*, the fictional capitol city of The Vinkus.
> 
> ◈Elements: This story uses a combination of details and references to Gregory Maguire’s book, Stephen Schwartz’s musical, The Wizard of Oz, and other fictional elements created by me* for this specific AU.
> 
> ◈Foreign Language: Two languages are spoken in this story. Ozian (English) and Vinkun (Lithuanian). Lithuanian was selected to be the designated “Vinkun” language. If any readers know Lithuanian, I humbly apologize because the translations found in this story are no more than the best that Google Translate could provide. (English translations will be in parentheses beside the Lithuanian text.)
> 
> ◈ Pairings: [Poppy (OC) x Zyaire (OC)] [Elphaba x Fiyero] [OOC Liir x OOC Trism]
> 
> ◈Content Warnings—PLEASE READ◈  
> This story is rated T for occasional language, mentions of violence, and sexual situations. Some content may be disturbing for some readers. Content advisories for a variety of things will be labeled at the beginning of each chapter. Please read with caution. Note: if there is a warning missing that you feel should be included, do not hesitate to inform me.
> 
> ◈*Dedication: Many elements in this universe (such as details about Elphaba and Fiyero’s past, the characters Liir & Poppy, the city of Vilnius, among other elements) were co-created by my dear friend and former RPG partner. I had the time of my life writing with you, and this story could not exist without the world we created. You know who you are, and thank you for the years of creativity we shared!
> 
> For visuals*, maps, and other bonuses for this story follow the pinterest board at: https://pin.it/3yy6I32  
> *Certain pictures will be posted as chapters are updated so as to avoid story spoilers.
> 
> ◈ This story is complete with 29 total chapters and will be updated regularly.

◈ **Chapter 1: Andris Repair** ◈

I hadn’t even wanted to leave the castle that day.

I awoke to the sound of curtains being yanked open and blinding sunlight streamed into my eyes as I squinted awake.

“You’ve slept in far too late, Poppy. Time to get up, we’re running errands today,” my mother’s voice instructed me.

I groaned as I sat up in bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Mom observed me with a faintly incredulous look before striding over to run a hand through my tangled disaster of long, dirty blonde hair.

“Oz, I will never know where you got these wild curls. It must come from Fiyero’s side. Thropp women have notoriously straight hair,” she commented with a click of her tongue.

She had a point. One would never guess that I was Elphaba Tigelaar’s daughter, and not just because my tanned, rosy beige skin starkly contrasted her rather…phosphorescent complexion. I had been told all my life that I was my father’s daughter. My looks, habits, and personality seemed to be all directly inherited from him. The only thing that I was missing were the blue diamond tattoos. The only traits I had inherited from Mom were her brown eyes and, according to Dad, her chin. I couldn’t really see it. Not counting those, she and I seemed to have nothing in common at all.

“Why can’t Liir go with you instead?” I yawned. “He’s your favorite.”

“Yes, he is, because he never _complains_ when I ask him to do things,” she joked evilly before affectionately kissing me on the forehead. “Get dressed.”

It wasn’t that I minded running errands with my mother. It was refreshing to get out of the castle and summer _was_ my favorite season after all. However, trips with Mom always seemed to drag on forever. She’d surreptitially lurk in places far longer than I’d prefer, and she didn’t like stopping to chat with the locals as much as Dad and I did. I tried to enjoy myself as we walked through the busy streets of Vilnius, the beautiful capitol city of The Vinkus, but the errands I was being subjected to were progressively putting me in a sour mood.

First, we had to drop things off at the tutoring center she volunteered at. Then, we had to send off some letters at the post office. However, I knew that I was really doomed when she began steering me towards the bookstore.

Mom, who was an avid reader much like my older brother Liir, could spend _ages_ browsing the stacks. She assured me that she was just looking for something specific, but after finding that book fairly soon after arriving, she predictably fell into a vortex of distraction as she perused some new titles.

“Mama, I’m ready to go home,” I complained dramatically. I felt like I had been very good so far, but I was starting to get impatient. She lifted her eyes from the book she was glancing through and sighed.

“I know, Poppy. We’re almost done. We just have to stop by a repair shop after this to bring your father’s watch in.”

I groaned loudly and crossed my arms, finally reaching my limit. “I’m sorry, don’t we have an entire staff at the castle that can do this stuff _for_ us? Why do we have to run these errands _ourselves_!?” I pouted.

She shut the book she was holding and gave me one of those _looks_ that informed me that I had said the wrong thing.

“Poppy, your father and I would be doing you a disservice if we let you be waited on hand and foot by the staff simply because you are the princess. Just because we’re royalty does _not_ mean we get to—”

“Okay, okay! I’ve heard it all before. But…can’t you fix it yourself?” I asked, trying a new tactic. I lowered my voice so no one nearby could hear. “You know…with magic?”

Mom was an accomplished sorceress, not that you’d ever know it. Vinkuns were notoriously superstitious and wary of, for lack of a better term, _witches_. She all but had to hide her gift, at least in public, for fear that her status as queen might be jeopardized if people found out. I never understood why she didn’t take advantage of it more often, though. If I had her magic powers, which unlike my brother I had never shown signs of, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a _repair shop_.

“Technically, yes. I’ve done it before. But I think it’s important to support local shop owners since we have the means to do so. Besides, I’m hoping it’ll encourage Fiyero to be more careful with his watch,” she muttered under her breath.

“How did he break it this time?” I asked curiously.

“He…dropped it in a pickle jar and it stopped ticking,” she shared reluctantly.

“How—”

“If only I knew,” she held up her hands.

She paid for the books and briefly conversed in Vinkun with the vendor. Having grown up in Munchkinland, Mom didn’t speak Vinkun until she was an adult. She had to learn it after college when she moved to The Vinkus with Dad. My brother and I learned both Ozian and Vinkun as children.

We finally exited the book shop and headed in the direction of our final errand, which promised to be a tedious experience.

“If you insist on dragging me to a repair shop, you owe me a shopping trip,” I grumbled.

“Didn’t we just buy you an entire new summer wardrobe last month? Or have you worn out those clothes already—and _don’t_ roll your eyes at me, young lady. You should be grateful for all of the fine things you have,” Mom scolded me.

Tired, sweaty, and annoyed by my mother’s criticism, I couldn’t imagine a place I wanted to go to _less_ than the Andris Repair Shop.

A small bell rang as we pushed the glass door to the shop open. The shop was tiny, musty, and slightly cramped. Just to the left upon entering was a long counter with an archway behind it that presumably led to a workshop. There was a crooked staircase on that left wall just past the counter that led upstairs to where I imagined the shop owner lived. Shelves packed with various tools and knickknacks populated the center of the shop. A large shop window to the right of the door, coated with a thin layer of dust, looked out upon the street that we had just entered from. In the corner to our right, right beside the front shop window, sat a large wicker rocking chair.

Sitting in this chair was an elderly woman who appeared to be taking a nap. She had rich, dark brown skin and her charcoal-colored hair was set into intricate cornrows which converged into a thick braided bun at the very top of her head. Her stunningly defined age lines suggested that she was in her seventies, maybe even eighties, and though she may have stood taller as a younger woman, age had shortened her stature to the point that, even from her seated position, I suspected that she’d only come up to about my shoulder in height.

Behind the shop counter stood an average-height, middle-aged man who appeared to be fixing a mechanical toy. He had brown skin, much like the woman in the chair, as well as eccentric, subtly receding grizzled hair, a graying goatee, and thick eyebrows. His lips were pressed into a firm, thin line as he concentrated. He may have struck me as stern, even intimidating, were it not for his unassuming posture and his kind, shy eyes.

Mom approached the man and greeted him in Vinkun before presenting the watch. The plainly nervous look on his face suggested that he must know that we were members of the royal family. To be fair, Mom’s green skin made it nearly impossible for us to blend in and it wasn’t unusual for people to be scared upon meeting her. Whether out of fear or discreteness, he did not draw attention to the fact that the queen was patronizing his shop and began to, rather shakily, discuss the repairs needed with Mom as if she were any customer. Already bored, I began wandering around the tiny shop so I didn’t have to stay with her at the counter. 

It was only then that I noticed him. A boy that looked to be around my age was sweeping the floor of the far-right corner of the shop. He was slim, only slightly taller than me, and, though his skin color was a warm, lighter brown, he bore a strong resemblance to the man behind the counter. He had short black hair in a fade buzz cut and amber eyes hidden behind a pair of charming, thinly framed glasses. However, perhaps the most notable detail about this boy was that…I had never seen him before.

Vilnius was a big town so it wasn’t as if I knew _everybody_ , but I did seem to know almost everyone my age. If I didn’t know someone, I had at least _seen_ them. I figured that since I did not know him, I might as well meet him today, so I strode over to him eagerly, quite excited to meet someone new!

“Lėta diena?” I greeted him. _(A slow day?)_

He turned around, still holding the broom handle in both hands, and gave me a puzzled look. For a clock-tick, I felt self-conscious. Why was he looking at me so strangely? Maybe he was just shy like the shop owner.

“Ar tai tavo tėvas?” I asked, trying to engage him in conversation. _(Is that your father?)_

“Uh—labas rytas…?” he uttered unconfidently, appearing to be quite flustered. _(Good morning...?)_

I wasn’t sure what his accent was, but it _definitely_ was not Vinkun. Furthermore, I wasn’t sure why he was bidding me a good morning when it was well after three o’clock in the afternoon.

“Nesinervink. Aš tiesiog bandžiau užmegzti pokalbį…” I explained, trying to put him at ease. _(Don’t be nervous. I was just trying to have a conversation.)_

The poor boy, looking confused and startled, squeezed the broom tightly and glanced towards the counter where Mom and the shop owner were still speaking. Then, he took a deep breath, and spoke again.

“Atsi—Atsipraš—er—sorry. Aš… nežinau…” he spoke slowly, sounding out each syllable with a dreadful mispronunciation. I just stared at him, feeling as confused as he looked. Then, he groaned suddenly and smacked his forehead in frustration.

“Oz…I should have studied more!” he said hurriedly under his breath.

As soon as he spoke in perfect Ozian I understood what must be happening. He didn’t speak Vinkun…but he was certainly trying to. Vinkun was the official language of Vilnius, so I was surprised that he didn’t seem to know it at all, but it was also amusing to me how determined he seemed to make a good impression. He was also pretty cute.

Maybe it was mean, but I decided to mess with him a little. I tilted my head to the side and furrowed my brow as if I couldn’t understand him. Then, as quickly as I could, I launched into a short monologue of hurried Vinkun.

“Aš žinau, kad tu nekalbi Vinkun ir aš galiu suprasti viską, ką tu sakai, bet tu nesupranti, ką aš sakau, kad galėčiau pasakyti viską, ko noriu. Taip pat, kadangi jūs nežinote, ką sakau, galiu pasakyti, kad manau, jog jūs tikrai miela…”

_(I know you don’t speak Vinkun and I can understand everything you say, but you don’t understand what I’m saying so I can say anything I want. Also, since you don’t know what I’m saying, I can say I think you’re really cute.)_

His jaw dropped open and I stifled a giggle at the look on his face.

“Uh…Dad?!” he started to call, clearly seeking help with translating. Not wanting to disturb either of our parents, I quickly dropped the act.

“Wait, no! Sorry…I speak Ozian too. I was just messing with you. My name is Poppy, what’s your name?” I offered my hand to him.

I was expecting him to look embarrassed, or even annoyed, but the only look that crossed his face was one of immense relief to finally understand what someone was saying.

“Zyaire. My name is Zyaire. Good trick,” he sighed, shaking my hand. “Uh…can I help you with something?”

I shook my head and offered him a smile for being a good sport. It was nice to know that he had a sense of humor.

“Oh no, I just wanted to meet you. So Zyaire, you don’t speak Vinkun, and I’ve strangely never seen you before. What’s your story? Is that your dad?”

“Yeah, that’s Dad. I just got to town a week ago. I actually live with my mom in The Emerald City but they decided that I should spend the summer here with him. I haven’t been back here since I was nine,” he explained with a sigh.

The fact he was from The Emerald City certainly explained things.

“How old are you now?” I asked curiously.

“Fifteen.”

“Me too! Well, I turned fifteen last week,” I clarified, standing up a little straighter.

“Happy late birthday,” he offered.

“Ačiū! That means ‘ _thank you’_ ,” I translated. Someone had to teach this boy some phrases.

From the counter I saw Zyaire’s dad pointing out some clocks that hung on the opposite wall of the shop which Mom turned around to view. Upon seeing my mother’s green face which had been concealed before, I saw Zyaire do a double take to look at her with a stunned expression. I stiffened, preparing myself to defend her. Everyone who was native to Vilnius knew her by now, how could they not know what their own queen looked like? But newcomers and tourists always stared.

“That’s my mom,” I informed him, my eyes daring him to say anything negative about her. He looked back to me and could surely see the warning on my face.

“I’m sorry—I know it’s rude to stare,” he said quickly. “I’m just not used to seeing emerald-colored things in The Vinkus. Has she always been…?”

“Yes, she’s always been green. Yes, she is my biological mother. And no, I didn’t inherit any of the green,” I said with a slight edge to my tone. I had heard it all before.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry…I’m assuming people are not always so kind. She should come to The Emerald City! She’d fit right in with all of us there!”

My shoulders relaxed as I sensed that he was being genuine. “She loves The Emerald City actually, that’s her favorite place to go on vacation. Personally? I don’t see the appeal,” I teased him with a wicked grin.

The Emerald City was fun, especially the places to shop, but I couldn’t imagine living there. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere outside of The Vinkus, in fact.

“Well, I’m not sure what’s so great about The Vinkus,” Zyaire seemed to tease back. “Of course, I haven’t seen much beyond this shop…the only people I know are Dad and Great Grandmother. Plus, I don’t understand what anyone is saying half the time!”

The elderly woman, his great grandmother, continued to gently rock nearby as she napped.

“Well, you know _me_ now, which is very lucky for you!” I informed him. “You’re going to be here all summer and I know Vilnius like the back of my hand. If you want, I can show you around a bit. I’ll bet by summer’s end you’ll be dreading to go back to The Emerald City!”

He hesitated for a second, almost as if he was trying to decide if I meant what I said. I did. He was interesting to me, I wanted to get to know him better.

“I mean…that sounds okay,” he decided, cracking a small smile.

Then and there, I privately made it my mission to make him love Vilnius as much as I did…if that were even possible.

“Poppy, we’re leaving,” Mom called to me as she finished up the transaction. That was quicker than I thought it would be. Ironically enough, I was disappointed that we couldn’t stay longer. 

As Zyaire and I approached the front of the store so I could rejoin Mom, I noticed Zyaire’s father wipe his brow with a handkerchief before wringing it in his hands with uncertainty. He seemed to be attempting to gather the courage to say something.

“Ačiū tau…mano karaliene. Už apsilankymą mūsų parduotuvėje,” he mumbled humbly, bowing his head a bit. _(Thank you…my queen. For visiting our shop.)_

Mom smiled graciously back at him and was about to say something before she was suddenly interrupted.

“Karalienė?!” an unfamiliar, croaky voice piped up from the corner. “Mūsų parduotuvėjehe?!” _(Queen?! In our shop!?)_

The elderly woman in the corner seemed to be _wide_ awake now as she swiftly stood out of her rocking chair with surprising agility for someone her age. She used a nearby cane to support herself and approached my mother with a wrinkled smile. She boldly shook her hand with an awed expression and then looked my way with a dawning understanding on her face.

“Ir princesė! Poppy, žinoma! Garbė. Garbė,” she muttered, shaking my hand as well. _(And the princess! Poppy, of course! An honor. An honor.)_

I could tell Mom felt a bit awkward at the attention and praise. The whole family was used to this treatment from time to time, but I don’t think she ever felt truly at ease being the center of attention.

I _loved_ it.

I chanced a glance at Zyaire who was now standing behind the counter beside his father. His father looked mortified _,_ but he just looked confused. That’s right, he didn’t know Vinkun!

“What’s going on?” Zyaire mouthed to me.

His great grandmother turned her attention to him and gestured between my mother and I.

“The queen and princess! In our shop!” she said in a heavy accent.

Zyaire’s jaw dropped for the second time that day, apparently so startled by this revelation that he dropped the broom he was holding which clattered noisily to the floor.

“ _Princess_?” Zyaire said faintly, staring at me with wide eyes.

I shrugged nonchalantly and gave him an amused smile. “I forgot to mention, we’re kind of a big deal around here.”

“Bobutė, prašau suteikti karalienei šiek tiek vietos!” Zyaire’s father pleaded. _(Grandmother, please give the queen some space!)_

“Taip, tu buvai toks malonus, bet mes turime eiti,” Mom gently told the woman. _(Yes, you have been so kind, but we have to go.)_

I spared a final glance to Zyaire and waved goodbye, the little bell chiming as Mom and I took our leave. As we exited, I could have sworn that I heard Zyaire’s great grandmother tell him something in her heavily accented voice.

“The princess thinks you are cute!”


	2. Welcome to Vilnius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Family conflict/divorce (mention)

◈ **Chapter 2: Welcome to Vilnius** ◈

It was only a matter of days before I saw Zyaire again.

A few days following our first meeting, Mom had casually mentioned over dinner that the watch was ready to be picked up and that someone would have to go retrieve it.

“I’ll do it!” I volunteered at once.

Mom raised an eyebrow at me. “I practically dragged you kicking and screaming into that shop and now you’re jumping at the chance to run another errand?” she asked skeptically.

I shrugged. “I made a friend.”

I wasn’t allowed to venture into town unaccompanied until recently. Mom had been firmly against the idea, insisting that I wasn’t old enough, but Dad argued that he had been wandering the town alone since he was nine. Mom pointed out that he hadn’t always made the best decisions when he was younger, but in the end, she eventually lost the battle. Now I was allowed to go into the village alone! During daylight hours. If they knew exactly where I was going. And I was back by curfew. Also, Mom sent a sentry to covertly follow me everywhere I went…but she didn’t know I knew that part.

One Friday afternoon, after obtaining adequate permission from Mom, I scurried down to the Andris Repair Shop. When I entered, Zyaire and his father were behind the counter, bent over a gaudy necklace that had some stones missing. His father appeared to be giving him a tutorial on jewelry repair.

“Labas rytas,” I greeted Zyaire good-humoredly, making my presence known. _(Good morning.)_

He looked up so quickly that he almost hit his head on a low hanging light, but he grinned when he saw me standing there.

“Laba _diena_ ,” he corrected smugly, crossing his arms and standing up straighter. _(Good afternoon.)_

“Well, well, well…it seems that your Vinkun has improved by _one_ phrase!” I clapped my hands slowly. “Impressive indeed.”

“Very funny. What are you doing here?” Zyaire asked. 

Instead of answering him, I looked to his father who had paused his work on the necklace.

“Could I steal Zyaire, Master Andris?” I requested hopefully. “It would only be for a few hours. I would love to show Zyaire around Vilnius…but I understand if he is needed here.”

He glanced at his son’s rather expectant face and then nodded feebly.

“Yes. Be back before sundown,” he said in a thick accent.

“Thank you, sir. We will be,” I nodded eagerly. Zyaire took his apron off and hung it on a bent nail sticking out the wall.

“Thanks Dad,” he said quickly before we both scampered out onto the square.

“So…where are we going?” he asked. He seemed excited to be out of the shop, but a little unsure about our plans.

I just gestured around the street. “Anywhere. You really haven’t explored much, have you?”

“Does going to the market with Dad count?”

“Nope. Come on, just trust me.”

We wandered through the cobblestone streets of town, passing fellow citizens who were strolling or riding bicycles. Occasionally even a pedicab or a buggy would pass by. It was a busy day.

“Poppy! Labas brangusis!” a friendly voice called. _(Poppy! Hello dear!)_

I turned to see one of my favorite locals, the aptly named flower cart lady, Rozalija. She was a short, plump woman with the kindliest smile you’d ever seen. She always kept a flower stuck in her straw hat, usually whichever one she was trying to push that day. Today, it was a gigantic sunflower. We adored each other. I grabbed hold of Zyaire’s arm and pulled him towards the cart.

“Laba diena. Tai mano naujas draugas Zyaire. Jis nekalba Vinkun. _Emerald City_ ,” I told her matter-of-factly. _(Good afternoon. This is my new friend Zyaire. He doesn’t speak Vinkun. Emerald City.)_

She scoffed and brushed her hands off on her apron. I snickered and nudged Zyaire, figuring that he could at least pick up on the fact that we were mocking The Emerald City.

“I will never understand city people,” Rozalija shook her head.

“Rozalija, _you_ live in a city,” I reminded her.

“Vilnius is different!” she insisted passionately. Then, she warmly put her arm around my shoulder, gave it a familial-like squeeze, and turned her attention to Zyaire.

“I have this young girl to thank for my career, did you know that?” she bragged to Zyaire. “When it was announced that a _princess_ was born after so long, there was a celebration throughout The Vinkus all to do with her. And her name was Poppy! Never in my life have I sold more flowers than I did that week. Poppies were everywhere, I couldn’t keep them in stock! Oz bless her parents for naming her for a flower. So sweet too, always stops by for a chat, just like her father!”

I never got tired of that story, she told it almost every time I visited. “Oh, you’re too sweet, Rozalija.”

“Here, you both take a poppy for the road,” she plucked two red poppies out of her cart and gave one to each of us. “A poppy for Poppy.”

“I’m going to show him around for a bit, but we _had_ to stop by my favorite flower cart first,” I schmoozed, twirling the flower between my fingers. Her eyes darted to Zyaire in a quick glance before she leaned in to speak to me confidentially.

“Jis mielas!” she smiled, giving me a knowing wink. _(He’s cute!)_

My face flushed with color and I gave her an embarrassed look, thankful that Zyaire didn’t understand Vinkun. “Bye, Rozalija!”

I put my poppy behind my ear as we walked on.

“So…you really are like…the princess?” he mumbled, staring at the flower in his hand.

“Correct. That’s my house,” I confirmed casually, pointing towards the castle that loomed over the town.

“So, you’re…a Tigelaar. Royal family. That whole thing,” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yep, that whole thing. My mom and dad are the King and Queen of The Vinkus. Dad was born into it. My Grandmother Nyre died while he was in college so he and Mom took the throne really young, maybe the youngest Tigelaars ever. I have an older brother too, Liir. He’s next in line for the throne…I wish it were me, though,” I sighed wistfully. Magical powers from Mom and a claim to the throne from Dad. Liir had all the luck. “It’s kind of my dream to be queen. Wouldn’t that be _awesome_?”

I didn’t tell many people that, not even my own family, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to tell Zyaire. He’d be leaving by the end of the summer anyway.

“I don’t know, that sounds like a lot of pressure,” he admitted meekly.

“My mom felt the same way, she didn’t really want to be queen at first. I _cannot_ understand why. She’s originally from Munchkinland, but she and Dad met in college and fell madly in love, so here she is!” I sighed melodramatically. “My parents are sickeningly enamored with each other. It’s kind of annoying sometimes.”

“That sounds nice,” Zyaire muttered, kicking a patch of dirt as we walked along. “My parents hate each other.”

“Oh…” I trailed off, suddenly feeling a little guilty for complaining about my parents love story. “So…I take it they’re not together?”

He let out a stiff laugh as if the idea were crazy.

“No. No, they’re not together. They split up when I was a baby. Not soon enough, as Mom says. Dad has lived in Vilnius his whole life. He and Mom apparently met here when she was traveling around Oz, they got married super-fast and had me right after. They were married for maybe a year before calling it quits. She wanted to move and he wanted to stay, so she took me and left for The Emerald City. They can’t stand each other now, or at least _she_ can’t stand him. I spent a few weeks in Vilnius here and there when I was a kid, but I haven’t been back in years.”

I listened carefully. My parents were all over each other all the time, I couldn’t even imagine what it’d be like to have parents that didn’t even _like_ each other. It must be difficult. 

“Anyway, Mom is going to be traveling a lot for her job this summer, so she begrudgingly decided that I could come stay with Dad. I haven’t spent as much time with him, he wasn’t able to visit The City very often because he has the shop to run. Plus, he has to take care of my Great Grandmother Alusia, you know? Oz— I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to just dump my whole life story on you,” he chuckled anxiously, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t apologize. I love hearing people’s life stories. I’m sorry your parents don’t get along…but I’m glad you’re here and I really do think you’ll have a good summer,” I encouraged.

“I hope so.”

“I’ll see to it! So…your great grandmother’s name is Alusia? That’s also the name of a Tigelaar. My great _great_ grandmother or something. I’ve been studying our family tree,” I bragged.

I couldn’t remember if Queen Alusia Tigelaar was my great great grandmother or great great _great_ grandmother…they all kind of blurred together. After all, I never even met so much as my own grandparents who died before I was born.

“Oh yeah, that’s on purpose. That side of the family is kind of… _obsessed_ with the royal family. At least Great Grandmother is, if you couldn’t tell. She was named for a queen and she wanted everyone on our side of the family to be named after royalty too. My dad, who she practically raised, is named Irji. He goes by Ike, though,” he explained.

“King Irji was my great grandfather, I know that for sure,” I told him. Dad occasionally mentioned his grandparents, Irji and Celestyn Tigelaar, but they passed away when he was quite young.

“She wanted me to be named after a Tigelaar too, but Mom refused to continue the tradition. Great Grandmother wanted to name me Fiyero after…well…I guess after your—”

“Dad. Yeah, that’s my dad.”

“Whoa…”

“That’d be weird if you were named after my dad.”

“That would be _really_ weird,” he agreed with a short laugh. “You know when I saw that castle and—I don’t know—the way Great Grandmother talks about your family… _you_ are not what I expected.”

“Well, sometimes I like to converse with the peasants…it keeps me grounded,” I said haughtily, pointing my nose high in the air.

He paused for a second. “You’re messing with me, right?”

“I’m completely messing with you.”

For the rest of the afternoon, I introduced him to some of my favorite sights of Vilnius. I bought him fudge from the place that made it from scratch every morning, and he loved it so much he looked as if he might faint. He couldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the afternoon and made me promise that we’d return there. Then, we got our picture taken from someone on the street selling polaroid photos. It didn’t seem like the vendor was getting many takers, so I had him take a silly picture of us and left a rather large tip, remembering what Mom said about supporting local vendors. I let Zyaire keep the photo.

Afterwards, we visited the game hall and played several rounds of cards. We each taught the other a new card game and learned more about each other as we played. I learned that he was an only child, which didn’t surprise me given the history of his parents, and that he played the mandolin. His favorite color was red and his favorite food _used_ to be banana bread but now it was the fudge we got from that shop. I was also delighted to learn that he had a collection of interesting rocks, which was so dorky and adorable I could barely stand it.

“I would show you the river banks but Mom says I’m not allowed to go to the outskirts of town alone,” I complained as we sat on a bench together in the center of town. “I’d say we should go anyway, but we’re _definitely_ being followed by a castle sentry.”

“We are?!” he exclaimed, completely surprised.

“Yeah, Kirkan. He works at the castle. He’s the one sitting at that table reading the newspaper, thinking we don’t see him. Mom sends people to keep an eye on me sometimes, it’s so annoying.”

“He’s sneaky,” Zyaire commented.

“Yes, he’s definitely subtler than Derenik who knocked over a kiosk while tailing me. Kirkan’s cool, just pretend he’s not there,” I shrugged. “So, let’s recap…we played cards in the game hall, got some free flowers from Rozalija, bought fudge--”

“ _Unbelievable_ fudge,” he added.

“Truly unbelievable fudge,” I laughed. “Tell me, what do you think of Vilnius so far?”

Instead of answering right away, I caught him staring at me for a lingering moment, as if his mind had been drifting off somewhere else while I asked my question. I wasn’t sure why he was so distracted, but when I shifted my eyes to meet his, I felt a sudden and new feeling flutter in my stomach. I glanced away shyly and he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, snapping out of his brief daydream.

“Vilnius is pretty great,” he agreed quietly.

I smoothed out the skirt of my dress and nodded my head towards the western sky as the unexpected sensation I had experienced slowly eased.

“It looks like the sun is going to set pretty soon…Mom will kill me if I’m not back before dinner.”

As we started heading back to the shop, Kirkan following stealthily behind, I felt disappointed that the afternoon had sped by so fast. I was already wondering when I could see him next.

“Well, we’ll have to go to the river banks _sometime_. Maybe we can go if my brother comes with us. Or Dad. Mom doesn’t go down there though. Sometimes I’m allowed to go if I’m with a larger group of friends. Oh—you have to meet my friends! I’m sure they’ll like you, and I’ll try to get them to speak Ozian.”

“Sure, Poppy,” he replied.

In too short a time we were standing back outside the shop door, which now displayed a closed sign.

“Let’s hang out again next week at the latest, we have to make sure you make the most out of your summer here. Maybe you and your family can even come to dinner at the castle sometime.”

“My Great Grandmother might just lose her mind out of excitement if that happened. Maybe we should keep that idea under wraps for now,” he joked.

“Right. Do you still have the polaroid?” I asked.

He patted his pocket to confirm that he did. “Yes, oh…but I lost my poppy…”

“Here!” I told him, taking the flower out from behind my ear and handing it to him. “Have mine, I don’t need any more.”

Zyaire seemed to be deep in thought again as he accepted it with a soft smile and his eyes glanced between me and the single poppy in his hand. Something about the moment brought on a resurgence of that bizarre, new feeling in my stomach from before…

“Uh—well…bye then,” I said, feeling oddly flustered.

“Right…bye then,” he waved and quickly departed into the shop.

I took a deep breath to clear my head as I watched him go. Feeling shy, rattled, and awkward around people was not something that I was used to. In fact, I typically felt perfectly at ease in social situations. I wasn’t sure why I felt differently around Zyaire…but there was a strange exhilaration to it.

“Alright Kirkan you can walk me home now!” I called out. A few clock-ticks later, Kirkan sheepishly stepped out from behind an alley way.

“Yes, Miss Poppy…”

Upon returning to the castle, I started heading up the staircase to get cleaned up when I coincidentally ran into Mom who was already dressed for dinner.

“Oh good, you’re home. Did you get your father’s watch?”

I bit my lip guiltily. “Oh yeah…I knew I forgot something…”

Mom observed me with an odd look before sighing. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to make another trip to the shop sometime.”

I perked up at her comment.

Yes, I guess I would.


	3. Repair Shops and River Banks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Bullying // Microaggressions // Implied child abandonment (mention)

◈ **Chapter 3: Repair Shops and River Banks** ◈

I did end up making another trip to get Dad’s watch, but that was far from my last visit to the Andris Repair Shop. In fact, over the next several weeks, I practically _lived_ there. Occasionally I would steal Zyaire away and we’d spend a few hours together about town, but usually, I’d just wind up hanging around the shop with him while he worked. 

Great Grandmother Alusia loved when I came around and she’d ask me all sorts of questions about my family. I loved the attention so I was always delighted to sit and chat with her. Zyaire joked that I was becoming better friends with her than I was with him. It was a fair observation. Surprisingly for me, I found that I enjoyed listening to Great Grandmother Alusia’s tales of growing up in Vilnius even more than I enjoyed talking about myself. She had seen The Vinkus change so much in her lifetime and had lived through the birth, reign, and death of many a Tigelaar. I was captivated by her.

She admitted that while she had been wary when my father took the throne so young, particularly considering his rather scandalous youth, she believed he had done The Vinkus proud and he was now one of her favorite kings. She even got a bit teary eyed when she recollected the assassination of my Senelis Indigo, which had occurred when my father was only three years old. _(Grandfather Indigo.)_

“Išėjo per anksti… išėjo per anksti…” she’d sigh, shaking her head sadly. “Tiek jis, tiek karalienė Nyre.” _(Gone too soon…gone too soon…both he and Queen Nyre.)_

Great Grandmother Alusia had been a young woman while my own great grandmother, Queen Celestyn, reigned. It baffled me that they had lived at the same time considering that Celestyn was now long gone. She even mentioned in a melancholy tone that she had named her own daughter, Ike’s mother, after her. She called her Celeste. I later found out from Zyaire that Celeste had run out on Ike when he was a child, a fate that he did not deserve. The family had had no contact with her ever since. It was a sore topic, so I was careful not to bring it up.

“Karalienė Celestyn buvo mano mėgstamiausia. Aš net kartą ją sutikau. Tai istorija skirtingam laikui…” Great Grandmother Alusia yawned heavily. _(Queen Celestyn was my favorite. I even met her once. This is a story for a different time…)_

I took her hand and thanked her for the stories before allowing her to nap in her wicker chair. Hearing her memories had made me long to know my own grandparents and great grandparents even more.

I occasionally feared that I would overstay my welcome or become a nuisance. It didn’t help that I shamelessly distracted Zyaire from his tasks as I chattered with him endlessly or influenced him into general tomfoolery. However, Zyaire’s dad did not seem to mind much. Ike was not a man of many words and struck me as quite timid. There was a gentleness to him though, and I appreciated him letting me openly loiter in his business so I could hang out with my friend.

There were times, however, that I actually seemed to be useful. After all, I happened to have a skill that Zyaire did not. Once, while his father was busy with another customer, a woman who clearly only spoke Vinkun approached him and began asking questions. He froze up just like he had when he first met me, but I jumped in to help translate. We were able to find out what she needed and send her on her way without bugging Ike. As she left, Zyaire sighed dramatically in relief and we shared a celebratory high five.

Another time, as he was sweeping the floor, I offered to help out.

“Oh, you’re telling me that the royal Princess of The Vinkus knows how to sweep?” he teased with a huge grin on his face. If he hadn’t been kidding, I would have been offended. Instead, I was pleased that he felt comfortable enough to poke fun at me.

“I’ll have you know that I’m quite _capable_ with a broom, probably better than you!”

He handed me the broom with a shrug. I took it from him and frowned theatrically, pretending that I did not, in fact, know how to hold it.

“Is this how you use it?” I asked, turning it upside down so that the bristles were facing up. “Hm?”

Then, without warning, I started ferociously brushing the broom over his work apron as if I were sweeping him up.

“Am I doing this right?” I asked, mercilessly bombarding him with the bristles.

“I surrender! I surrender!” he said breathlessly. He was laughing so hard that he doubled over and his glasses slid clean off of his nose. There was a faint clatter followed by the sound of glass breaking against the hardwood floor. We both froze.

“Whoops,” I said simply.

We were quiet for a moment before we simultaneously broke into uproarious laughter once more, much harder than before.

“Well lucky we’re in a repair shop!” I said between hysterical giggles.

“Now you really have something to sweep up!” he laughed, clutching his stomach as he struggled to catch a breath.

All of our days seemed to end in similar bouts of laughter.

◈◈◈

“Let’s go down to the river banks tonight,” I proposed on a hot summer day.

I had been lazily flipping through a magazine as he sorted some old receipts in the shop. It was a slow day.

“Okay…any particular reason?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in interest.

“My friends are meeting there this evening,” I informed him. “Mom is letting me go because there’s going to be a lot of people there. She’s even letting me stay out after dark as long as I don’t walk home alone. I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends if you wanted to come along.”

He looked at me with slumped shoulders and adjusted his newly repaired glasses with an air of apprehension.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” I jumped in before he could refuse. “You _have_ to see the river bank, it’s awesome. Plus, there’s some really cool rocks down there. Come on, I _know_ you like cool rocks…”

“Okay…sure. That sounds fun,” he agreed hesitantly, not looking up from the receipts.

That evening, around dusk, I stopped by to pick him up so I could accompany him down to the river bank.

“Who’s following you today?” he asked.

“Hova, but you’ll never see her. She’s even stealthier than Kirkan.”

We chatted and shared inside jokes as we walked and all the while it seemed like his anxiousness was gradually beginning to fade. Before long, we could hear the rushing of the river and the sounds of voices. About fifteen or so of my closest friends were sitting in small groups along the shore near a campfire that had yet to be lit.

“Poppy yra čia dabar tai yra vakarėlis!” a boy named Kars yelled out. _(Poppy is here! Now it’s a party!)_

A few people looked up and shouted to welcome me and I could see three of my friends attempting to wave me over to their quilt.

“Come on!” I said to Zyaire excitedly, prancing ahead towards my friends.

“Štai ji yra! Kur buvai? Vos nematėme jūsų nuo jūsų gimtadienio,” Natala complained as I approached. _(There she is! Where have you been? We’ve barely seen you since your birthday party.)_

“Ar mama uždaro tave pilyje?” Darielle asked me. _(Does your mom keep you locked up in the castle?)_

“Ne, aš tiesiog užsiėmiau!” I said, which was a pretty lame excuse. “Be to, praleidau laiką su nauju draugu.” _(No, I’ve just been busy! Plus, I’ve been spending time with a new friend.)_

Then, I realized Zyaire wasn’t beside me. I turned to see him hanging back a little way up the hill with his hands in his pockets. He looked uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he should join us. I waved him over and he approached with an air of uncertainty.

“This is my friend Zyaire, he’s new to town. He’s from The Emerald City,” I introduced.

Tacey gasped. “Ooh la la!”

“Zyaire this is Tacey, Natala, and Darielle. They’re some of my closest friends.”

“Poppy atnešė berniuko žaislą,” Tacey said in a sing-song voice to Natala. _(Poppy brought a boy toy!)_

“Užsičiaupk! Jis tik draugas. Also, Zyaire doesn’t know much Vinkun yet so is it cool if we all speak Ozian?” I asked reasonably. _(Shut up! He’s just a friend.)_

“Um…sure…” Darielle said slowly, glancing at the others who nodded quickly.

“Sure…totally…” the others agreed.

Zyaire and I sat down on the quilt to join them and the girls and I immediately jumped into our gossiping as the sun set. Tacey squealed about her new puppy, Darielle complained about her dad, and we tormented Natala about her crush on Kars. I was enjoying myself but, maybe later than I should have, I realized that I hadn’t been including Zyaire very much.

“Um…I like Vilnius a lot,” Zyaire said, attempting to make conversation. “Poppy showed me some cool places. Are you all from here?”

They laughed as if it were a silly question and nodded.

“Yeah, we’re all from here,” Tacey giggled.

“So, what brings you to town, hon?” Natala asked.

“I’m living with my dad right now, helping him out with work,” Zyaire explained.

“Oh! What does he do?” Natala followed up.

“He works at— _owns_ —he owns the repair shop in the square.”

“Oh, that really _little_ one?” Darielle chimed in, leaning in to the other girls. “Tai tas kurio langai dulkėti.” _(It’s the one with the dusty windows.)_

The other girls tittered and nodded in comprehension.

“Oh yes!”

“So _charming_.”

Zyaire glanced at me with a confused expression, obviously not understanding Darielle’s Vinkun. I didn’t really feel like translating what she had said...

There was a slightly awkward silence and Zyaire pointed out the necklace that Tacey was wearing which had a smooth stone pendant.

“That’s a cool necklace, Tacey. What is that, quartz?”

“Um…I don’t know what it is. Expensive is what it is!” she giggled, her eyes darting to catch the eye of Natala who was biting back a smirk.

“O koks mielas jis flirtuoja Tacey,” Darielle whispered loudly. Tacey reddened and smacked Darielle on the arm as if the idea were mortifying. _(Oh, how cute he’s flirting with Tacey.)_

“Atsiprašau, Poppy, tavo parduotuvės berniukas myli Tacey,” Darielle grinned to me. _(Sorry, Poppy, your shop boy loves Tacey.)_

“It’s just that I have some quartz in my collection and it looked familiar…” Zyaire attempted to continue.

“Kolekcija!” Darielle snorted. The other girls immediately covered their mouths to smother their unkind snickering. _(Collection!)_

Zyaire shot me a panicked look and I felt embarrassed and aggravated at how they were acting. They didn’t even know him. I opened my mouth, perhaps to tell them to stop, but then I closed it. I really didn’t want to start any drama…and it wasn’t as if Zyaire could understand them anyway. Kars and some of the other boys then began shouting for people to sit around the newly lit fire pit.

“Come on, let’s go!” Darielle gestured for us to follow.

I stood and began to follow their lead but I soon realized that Zyaire wasn’t beside me. I turned to see him hanging back by the quilt with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey Poppy…I might just head out,” he called to me, shuffling his foot to lightly kick some dirt. “Thank you for inviting me, I had a really good time.”

I knew he was lying. I shook my head and immediately went over to him, a peculiar heaviness settling itself into my chest.

“No, stay. Please?” I requested. “I want you to stay.”

Zyaire looked uneasily over to the noisy group of people ahead of us. They were all pushing, laughing, teasing, and flirting as they found their place around the giant fire. Usually, I was right there with them…but the scene didn’t sit quite right with me tonight.

“You know what? We don’t even have to join them. Let’s walk down the bank and hang out just the two of us,” I suggested. “Can we?”

I wanted him to stay. More than that, I didn’t want him to walk away feeling the way I was sure he was feeling. He hesitated for a moment, observing me warily, then nodded.

“Great,” I exhaled in relief. I scooped up the quilt the girls had abandoned, folded it untidily, and stowed it under my arm. “This way.”

As we walked further down the edge of the river, the noise from the party growing fainter and fainter, we kept our conversation topics light. We chatted about his work schedule, I recounted a funny story about Liir, and he talked about the time his mom took him to see Wiz-O-Mania. Neither of us mentioned what the three girls had been saying, but their words hung in the air between us regardless.

When we were a fair distance away, not so far that we couldn’t see the glow of the fire, but far enough that the noise from the gathering wasn’t distracting, I spread the quilt out on the ground. We sat on it together, staring out at the river from a safe distance. There were pebbles and rocks all around us, and I noticed Zyaire glancing at them curiously.

“Take a look at them, you know you want to!” I nudged his shoulder with mine.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he shrugged, perhaps feeling self-conscious about his collection now. How silly. I _loved_ that he had a collection. I reached forward and grabbed a rock at random.

“What about this one, what kind is it?” I prompted.

He looked at it blankly for a clock-tick, internally warring with himself, before he finally wasn’t able to hold back his enthusiasm any longer.

“That looks like basalt, I think…” he took it to get a closer look. “It’s dark and fine-grained, see how smooth it is? That’s from the river. I have one in my collection, but I’ve never found one on my own!”

“Hey, wait a tick-tock! How do you even _have_ a collection of rocks? You live in The Emerald City; I can’t imagine there is a lot of nature there,” I realized

“Well—I mean I have a few that I found in The Vinkus when I was a kid and…Mom brings them back from her travels sometimes…but mostly I just…buy them?” he admitted sheepishly.

“Buy them? You _buy_ your rocks?” I gaped. “You’re killing me, Zyaire!”

“There are cool rock shops in The City!” he defended himself.

“Zyaire you are _so_ not a city boy. You belong here!” I insisted.

He chuckled and, perhaps without realizing it, met my eyes in one of his unusual, lingering stares.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re right…”

We fell silent for a moment, mutually stuck in the gaze, as if an odd spell had fallen over us.

“Uh…you can keep this one!” he blurted out quickly, breaking the brief trance as he placed the rock in my hand. “Start your own collection.”

“No one has ever given me a rock before,” I shook my head with a tiny laugh. “Ačiū. That means thank you.”

“I think I remember that one.”

By now, the stars were vibrantly visible in the night sky and I stretched back onto the quilt to admire them with a relaxed sigh. Zyaire moved to lay back on the quilt to the right of me. It was so beautiful out here. We lay in a comfortable silence for a long moment, listening to the rushing current and the faint sounds of the party in the distance.

“They were making fun of me…weren’t they?” he finally asked in a quiet voice, his eyes cast determinedly upwards.

I steadfastly stared up at the night sky, not daring to look at him, as shame and guilt burned in my chest.

“No…” I mumbled lamely. “They were just…kind of…I mean—they’re good people and good friends. I think sometimes they just don’t know where the line is…you know?”

“Yeah…I get it.”

“Once you all get to know each other it’ll be fine,” I insisted dismissively. He didn’t respond…and the burn of guilt in my chest failed to dissipate. I sighed and turned my head towards the side to finally look at him.

“Zyaire? Don’t give them another thought. No matter what…I think you’re pretty awesome. Alright?” I imparted softly.

He turned his head to the side to meet my eyes before offering me the faintest trace of a smile.

“Alright,” he accepted gently, before turning his attention back to the night sky in contentment.

“There are a crazy number of stars out…can you always see this many stars?” he asked.

“Yes. Well, on clear nights. It’s easiest to see them out here on the outskirts of town so you’re getting a pretty good view,” I replied.

“You can never see stars like these in The Emerald City. Too much light. There’s always this greenish glow in the sky but barely any stars.”

“You know, Nojuss Tigelaar who is like my great great great great…something…grandfather, was a famed astronomer on top of being king. He actually named a lot of these constellations. He named one for his wife Ksena which I think is _so_ romantic. I’m pretty sure it’s that one…” I pointed up at the sky.

“You know so much about your family tree,” he said in an impressed tone.

“No more than your Great Grandmother Alusia knows!” I laughed modestly. “I guess…I’ve always been fascinated about where I came from. I don’t have any living grandparents—well at least on Dad’s side. On Mom’s side it gets _really_ complicated. I kind of feel like since I’ll never know them, I want to know _about_ them, you know? I just really love The Vinkus and I’m proud to be a Tigelaar. People say I get that from my dad…”

I trailed off as I focused on the stars that Nojuss Tigelaar had mapped. I thought of all of the generations of Tigelaars before me, their contributions, their accomplishments. I thought of the legacy they left behind and the mark they made on The Vinkus. I wondered what my legacy, what my _story_ , might be. All I knew was that I didn’t want to fade into obscurity. In my gut, I knew I could do something great. I wanted to be somebody. I _would_ be somebody.

“You know something interesting? In something like nine generations of Tigelaars… I’m the first princess. The first girl to be born into the family. I don’t know—that has always just made me feel kind of…special,” I admitted. “Does that sound vain?”

“No…” Zyaire trailed off, hesitating for a long moment before speaking softly but clearly. “You are special, Poppy.”

A comfortable, meaningful silence stretched between us as his words spread a tingling warmth through my heart. Then…

It may have been unintentional at first, but somewhere during our conversation as we lay side by side, the tips of our pinky fingers seemed to have brushed against one another’s. I felt the contact…but neither of us pulled our hand away, nor did we say a word as we continued to stare at the stars. The featherlight brush of our fingers against one another’s was so delicate that I wondered if he had even noticed it. I even wondered if I was imagining it. What definitely was not imaginary, however, was the violent hammering of my heart. The mad swarm of butterflies in my stomach. The faint heat that had risen to my cheeks.

I thought of this boy beside me. This boy I had only known for short time, this boy from The Emerald City, this shop boy. How could he make me feel so much? The answer came to me easily, and then I whispered it out loud to put what I knew to be true out into the universe.

“You’re special too.”


	4. Summer's End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Family conflict/divorce (mention)

◈ **Chapter 4: Summer’s End** ◈

Zyaire and I didn’t talk about what happened, or didn’t happen, at the river banks. It was, _or_ _wasn’t_ , just a subtle brush of our pinky fingers, after all. How could that mean much of anything? Eventually, I determined that I must have misinterpreted the moment and that it was best to put it out of my mind. So, we left it unsaid between us.

Even so, now whenever I’d think of Zyaire…my heart would do a funny leap. Or I felt like I’d be ill. Or _both_. I’d had crushes before; I would notice cute people in my friend group and had even, though I’d never so much as held anyone’s hand, dabbled in some superficial flirting. But this constant knot in my stomach, this lighthearted yet _rattled_ feeling, was brand new. I wasn’t even convinced that what I felt towards Zyaire could be called a crush seeing as the sensation was so unfamiliar and confusing. What was this feeling, anyway? I was cheerfully…anxious. Delightfully…nauseous.

Despite how I felt when he crossed my mind, things, funnily enough, still felt as easy and natural as ever when I saw him in person. We still hung out nearly every day, we still joked, and still caused endless mischief in his family’s business. The only difference was that I found myself analyzing his actions a bit closer than before. Did he look at me just a moment too long? Did he laugh just a little too loud at my joke? Was he analyzing me too?

One afternoon, I found Mom in our living room, sipping iced tea and reading a new book during a break from her busy work day. I considered not bothering her, knowing that she was probably enjoying some time alone, but I had a burning question that I wanted to get off my chest.

“Mama?” I announced my presence in the doorway.

She glanced up at me over her reading glasses, slightly startled.

“Yes, dear?”

“I was just wondering how you knew that you liked Dad? As more than a friend?” I blurted out awkwardly.

“Well, I _never_ liked him as a friend. He was kind of a pain in my side when we met,” she muttered, flipping a page in her book.

Despite the exasperated tone she manufactured, a faintly nostalgic smile graced her lips. Then, my question seemed to register on her face a clock-tick later. She turned her attention back to me, narrowing her eyes the slightest bit.

“Why do you ask?” she inquired suspiciously, closing her book.

“Just curious! Thanks Mama,” I said hurriedly as I moved to escape, my courage suddenly zapped.

“ _Poppy_ ,” she called in that voice that only she could achieve which was stern but gentle at the same time.

I sighed and looked back at her as she patted the space beside her on the sofa. I reluctantly sat next to her, really hoping that I wouldn’t live to regret this.

“Why the sudden interest in your father and I’s past?” she asked significantly, taking off her glasses and setting them aside. “You and Liir are usually so sickened when we talk about it.”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just curious…about how you know when you like someone,” I mumbled, feeling my face grow hot. “Like… _really_ like them.”

She gave me a probing look, as if debating on whether or not she should press me for more details. In the end, for _once_ , she seemed to decide against it. 

“Well…like I said, your father and I were not fast friends. In fact, I could barely stand him. I even turned him down the first time he asked me out. Then…something just changed between us. He was interesting to me, I wanted to get to know him better. I caught myself thinking of him more and more and eventually agreed to go on a date with him. I was incredibly nervous. I’d stumble over my words; I’d blush when I felt embarrassed or flattered. When our eyes met my heart would just…leap. It still does sometimes. I think it was scary for the both of us but, goodness knows why, we liked each other,” she trailed off with a little shrug. “The rest is history.”

I hung on every word, my stomach twisting at the familiarity of it all. It all fit.

“You know, I almost made a run for it when he asked if could kiss me for the first time,” she added with a short laugh.

“He asked before kissing you?” I asked.

“Yes, he did, which was very sweet of him…” she murmured wistfully, as if getting lost in the memory. However, she soon snapped out of it to tack on a motherly disclaimer. “Of course, I was much _older_ than you are now.”

“Right. Of course!” I nodded.

She looked me over briefly before reaching out and tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

“Poppy…you know you can ask or tell me anything, right? Always. If you ever need me, it doesn’t matter what is going on, I’ll be there,” she promised.

I just offered her a slightly embarrassed yet appreciative smile.

“Yes Mama, I know,” I answered quickly, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll leave you to your book now.”

◈◈◈

The next day I sat on the counter of their repair shop, absent-mindedly flipping through a dusty catalogue while Zyaire attempted to wipe the counter down with a rag. He cleared his throat when he came to the portion of the counter that I was currently perched on.

“Uh—Poppy? Do you mind?”

“Nope, not at all,” I grinned evilly, crossing my legs and refusing to budge from my throne.

“If you won’t move, you leave me no choice,” he warned.

“I’m terrified,” I muttered dryly, flipping a page of the catalogue.

He then slowly grabbed a nearby broom that had been leaning against the counter and menacingly turned it bristle side up.

“Uh oh…” I mumbled a tick-tock before the attack.

In a sudden flurry of movement, he began furiously sweeping me with the bristles. I nearly fell off the counter backwards as I screamed and cackled.

“I surrender! I surrender!” I conceded defeat, holding up my hands as I steadied myself. He set the weapon aside, smirking boastfully as I hopped down from the counter.

“And my reward is getting to clean the counter!” he announced before catching a glimpse of me. “Oh, hold on—may I?”

He pointed towards my hair where, in my periphery, I could just barely see a long bristle trapped in a tangle. I nodded to grant him access and he reached forward to carefully dislodge the offending fiber.

“Thanks…” I said dumbly. And there it was, right on time, that racing heart and twisting stomach. He was staring now; I was almost sure of it. I was staring too.

“Hey Poppy?” he blurted out, as if he would lose his resolve if he did not say something quick. “You’re my best friend.”

As soon as he said it, it clicked. Yes. Though we had only known each other for one short summer, there could be no doubt. It was decided. We weren’t just two friends, or two good friends…we were two _best_ friends. I’d had so many friends, but his declaration made me realize that I had perhaps never had a best friend. Not until now.

I briefly wondered what this epiphany meant in regards to my recent feelings for him. My crush, if you could call it that, on the boy I now recognized as my best friend. Perhaps he could be both…and perhaps that’s what made the difference.

“You’re mine too,” I replied with certainty, and the resulting smile that broke across his face became forever etched into my memory. 

◈◈◈

That night, my family was hosting a formal dinner party at the castle. One of those obligation dinners to schmooze with the high council members. Mom and Liir loathed these evenings. Even Dad, who enjoyed throwing parties more than anything, got jaded whenever we hosted dinner with no dancing. Usually, company excited me. I even liked these types of dinners to an extent because they allowed me to get dressed up and eavesdrop on political conversations. Politics, contrary to what Liir believed, could be _fascinating_. However, tonight as I dressed for dinner, my mind was elsewhere. I picked white dress with red poppy appliques, occasionally finding it entertaining to lean into my namesake, and I donned a pair of subtle blue diamond earrings.

Blue diamonds were the traditional symbol of Vinkun royalty. Dad had his diamond tattoos, as Liir would get someday, and Mom had her jewelry for official events. My blue diamonds, however, were fake. Mom didn’t find it appropriate for a fifteen-year-old to have genuine stones, princess or not.

We ate dinner and did our best to entertain our rather dull guests. At the end of the table, a little too distracted to snoop on the council conversations, I passed the time by chatting with Liir. He and I had been in the middle of bickering about something stupid when the double doors of the dining room opened to reveal our sentry Kirkan entering the room with an air of hesitancy.

“Master Tigelaar, there is someone coming to call.”

Dad looked up from his conversation curiously. Sentries and staff members did not typically interrupt dinners such as this, so it was out of the ordinary for Kirkan to make the effort to inform us of a visitor. 

“Thank you, Kirkan. Do you mind taking a message? We are in the middle of dinner,” Dad replied courteously. Kirkan hesitated before nodding with a sigh.

“Yes, sir. I will tell… _Master_ _Ike Andris_ …that he may return later,” Kirkan’s voice seemed to carry as if he was specifically hoping to be overheard.

It had worked, because my attention was immediately captured when he mentioned the name Andris. However, by the time I looked up again, Kirkan had already exited the dining room.

Why would Zyaire’s dad be calling upon the castle, especially at this hour? It was near impossible to picture the fainthearted Ike having enough to vim and verve to approach the gates at all. I simply had to know why he came. I craned my neck to look at my parents who were situated further down the long dining room table.

“Whatcha doing there, sesė?” Liir asked slowly. _(Sister)_

“Nothing—I just need to get Mom and Dad’s attention…” I was about to rise from my seat, but at that moment, Councilman Eugenijus stood and began making a long-winded toast.

I sighed sharply as I plopped back down, looking towards the exit. I’d be in _so_ much trouble if I just left. As Councilman Eugenijus droned, I tried in vain to catch the eye of Mom or Dad. They were both pretending to be interested in the speech which I _knew_ they weren’t. After an eternity, he finally sat, and I recognized my chance to escape before anyone else could speak. Without missing a beat, I darted over to where my parents sat, hunching down a bit as if that would do anything to draw less attention to myself.

“Mama, Daddy, I need to go hear what Kirkan had to say,” I whispered breathlessly. My parents shared a puzzled look at my frantic request. “Master Andris is my friend Zyaire’s dad.”

“Ah—well he’s probably already left, sweetheart,” Dad said. “I’m sure we can find out what he wanted after dinner.”

“Please Daddy? He _wouldn’t_ come to the castle for no reason!” I begged. “If he’s gone then just let me go down to the repair shop!”

“Poppy, it’s nearly after dark. I don’t want you walking alone—” Mom began.

“I’ll take Kirkan with me! I know you have him follow me everywhere anyway!” I blurted out.

Dad raised an eyebrow at her which clearly meant that this was the first he was hearing about my being followed. Mom looked faintly abashed that her secret had been exposed, but it didn’t seem to sway her decision. 

“Honey…you can’t leave during dinner…” Mom shook her head. I groaned in frustration and leaned in closer so that only she could hear.

“Mama—Zyaire is the reason I asked you about Dad,” I whispered desperately into her ear. I was mortified to tell her so, but I _had_ to make her understand.

“Elphaba, what did she say?” Dad asked, clearly not understanding what was happening.

In most cases when I needed to get my way, I’d appeal to Dad. This time, I just stared my mother down with a meaningful, pleading look.

“You told me I could ask you anything. I’m asking you to let me go,” I bargained persuasively. “ _Please_.”

Mom eyed me and then heavily sighed in rare defeat. “Fiyero, let’s let her go. It’s alright with me. Poppy, take Kirkan with you and be back as soon as you can.”

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy. I love you both,” I whispered, kissing them both on the cheek before hurrying out of the room.

My formal shoes clacked on the floor as I rushed into the foyer, thankful to find Kirkan still there. He appeared relieved that I had received his signal.

“Kirkan! What did Master Andris want?” I asked urgently.

“He came to tell me that his son, your friend, was leaving tonight. The boy’s mother came to pick him up unannounced and he knew that you would want to know. He seemed quite anxious to approach us but was _quite_ insistent that I told you…so you could come and say goodbye,” Kirkan informed regretfully.

“No!” I exclaimed loudly, my voice echoing throughout the empty foyer.

Zyaire was leaving tonight?! We were supposed to have more time left, more _summer_ left. He could not leave tonight. Not when there were still so many things we still had to do. So many things we still had to… _say._

Wasting no more time, Kirkan and I left the castle at once. The trek to the repair shop was a short enough distance, but the urgency of the venture made it feel like it was on the other side of Oz. Night had fallen by now and the streetlamps were flickering to life. The streets of Vilnius were eerily quiet, in sharp contrast to their liveliness during the day.

The moment I spotted the glow of the repair shop, even from the distance I was at, I could hear bits of the intense, multi-lingual shouting match going on just beyond its closed door. Ike and Great Grandmother Alusia seemed to be engaged in a heated argument with who I assumed was Zyaire’s mother Pertessa. Kirkan strode towards the shop and daringly stepped inside, seeming to embrace the fact that he was, whether he liked it or not, part of this now.

However, there was no need for me to enter the shop, for I spotted him at once. Sitting just outside the door atop a huge suitcase, looking as miserable as I had ever seen him...

“Zyaire!” I called out breathlessly, unable to stop my feet as they dashed towards him.

“Poppy!” he called, hopping off his suitcase and rushing towards me as well.

“Tell me it isn’t true. You’re not really leaving tonight?” I asked him desperately.

“Mom showed up out of _nowhere_. We’re taking the late train out of Vilnius. I’ve never seen Dad and Great Grandmother so livid…” he reported unhappily.

“This is so unfair. She can’t just come yank you back to The City!” I bellowed angrily.

“Her mind is made up. I just wish I’d had a _warning_ …” he shook his head.

“I don’t know what to say…” I admitted. “I ran all the way down here and now I don’t know what to say.”

“Mom is so mad that they’re fighting her on this. I heard her tell them that…she isn’t going to let me come back here. Not even next summer…”

I felt sucker punched by this piece of news. Not only was he leaving…he wouldn’t be coming back? It came on fast, for I had never even met his mother, but I recognized in that moment that I had made an enemy for my whole life long. I privately vowed that I’d never forget what she did, and I’d carry this grudge with me until the day I died.

“You were right, by the way,” Zyaire mumbled in a darkly ironic tone. “I dreaded coming here this summer…but now I’m dreading going back…”

I had never felt so unhappy to be right.

We stood on the cobblestone square under the streetlights in silence. I tried to think of something positive to impart. Insist that we would keep in touch, write letters, visit each other…but it all just seemed so inadequate. There was too much to say, and too little time to say it. It seemed almost better to say nothing than to try to say it all.

“Poppy…can I...” he mumbled hoarsely.

His strained tone caught my attention and I looked up at him expectantly.

“Um…can I…”

Then, Zyaire groaned suddenly and smacked his forehead in frustration.

“I don’t know how to say it. I’m probably ruining everything…but I just wanted to ask because—because I’m _leaving_ so, I won’t get another chance and—” he stammered untidily. “Poppy _…can I kiss you_?” 

My eyes widened and my lips parted slightly as I was rendered speechless, for once, at his sudden request.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot—” he said quickly, looking supremely horrified about what had just come out of his mouth. “I just felt like—I don’t know—I felt there was something between us and—"

Then I kissed him.

I leaned in quickly, so as not to lose my nerve, and pressed my lips to his in a swift, sweet kiss goodbye. It had been gentle, hurried, even a little clumsy.

It was perfect. 

When we pulled away mere instants later, his eyes remained closed for a few moments longer, as if trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“You were right…there was something…there _is_ …” I confirmed quietly.

The single kiss we shared had said everything we needed to say about this summer, about our friendship, and about that unsaid something between us.

“I feel like I’m never going to see you again…” he lamented.

“We’re best friends. We’ll see each other again…I believe we will,” I insisted softly, giving him a long-lasting look. “Atsisveikinimas, Zyaire. That means…farewell.”

Our farewell was abrupt and unceremonious. His mother simply called to him that they were leaving ‘under no uncertain terms’. A solemn looking Kirkan exited the shop and stood by to escort me home. Then…I waved goodbye. And he waved back. And that was that.

Zyaire went back into the shop, surely to say goodbye to his father and great grandmother, and the last glimpse I caught of my shop boy through the window was of him slipping a polaroid photo into his back pocket.

Kirkan and I said nothing for the entire walk back.

My shoes pinched my feet as I wandered numbly down the hallway of the castle. I found my parents in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, still dressed in their fancy clothes, after having apparently given the kitchen staff the night off. They laughed and bumped into each other’s shoulders playfully as they tidied up. Dad flirted with Mom charmingly as he dried dishes. Mom smiled that untroubled smile she reserved only for Dad as she folded cloth napkins. They seemed pleased as punch to just be spending time together, even while completing the most boring of tasks. I tried to shoo away unwanted visions of dusty catalogues, old rags, and brooms as I took in the scene. 

Dad noticed me first as he looked up from the wine glass he was drying.

“Hey Poppy girl…” he trailed off, surely noticing the downhearted look upon my face.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Mom asked, setting down the stack of napkins.

I moved towards them slowly, my arms crossed around myself.

“Um…I just had my first kiss…” I revealed quietly. “And…I’m never going to see him again.”

Everything that had happened that night suddenly crashed over me in a fierce wave. Before I could help it, I broke into pitiful sobs as the reality that I may never again see my best friend sunk in all at once. Within an instant, I felt my mom’s arms wrap around me in a warm embrace. I threw my arms around her and wept into her shoulder freely.

I wordlessly tried to tell myself that I was being overdramatic, that this wasn’t the end of the world, but deep down I knew that it was no use. Having had a perfect first kiss was the only consolation in the grief I felt having reached summer’s end.


	5. Atsisveikinimas, Adolescence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Attempted sexual assault // Sexual misconduct on a minor // Sexual harassment // Derogatory language // Victim blaming // Trauma (Sexual assault) // Slut Shaming // Sex (mention) // Unhappy romantic relationship // Bullying // Alcohol use // Poverty/Homelessness (mention) // Gambling (mention)
> 
> *Some content in this chapter may be disturbing for some readers. Please note the content advisories and read with caution.

◈ **Chapter 5: Atsisveikinimas, Adolescence** ◈ _(Farewell, Adolescence)_

Accepting the fact that Zyaire had moved away seemed like an impossible feat at first. To say I had an axe to grind with his mother was an understatement. I began thinking of the woman as my nemesis. Though, rather than a human woman, my mind concocted a picture of an unfeeling machine coldly _disguised_ as a person, because I could not imagine anyone in all of Oz being as heartless as her.

It was difficult to remember how I had even spent my time before I met Zyaire, and for weeks, I felt hopelessly lost without my best friend.

However, time passed, and with it a new normal began to settle in as autumn overtook Vilnius. Sooner than I ever would have thought possible, the events of that summer began to fade into the back of my mind as a lovely, pleasant memory. Zyaire Andris had been a faithful friend, and that summer meant a lot to me, but I had to accept the fact that he was not returning to town.

Zyaire and I did exchange postcards for a few months after he left, but it wasn’t the same. As hard as it was to admit, it was tough to capture the same banter we had achieved while together in person…which made the occasional postcards somehow sadder than no contact at all. We sent each other Lurlinemas cards that winter, and after that, we officially lost touch.

For a while after he left, whenever I was in town with my parents, I would wistfully glance towards the repair shop windows as we passed by. There were many times that I considered going in to say hello to Ike and Great Grandmother Alusia…but I could never imagine what I would say. It was too painful for me to consider going back into that place when I knew that I wouldn’t find Zyaire inside. I was afraid that, if I visited now, that almost magical feeling about the place would be lost. So, I never went in, and eventually there came a day where I was able to walk by it without sparing a glance or even a passing thought its way.

The next spring, a boy from my friend group, Adorjan, asked me out. I accepted his date mostly out of curiosity. We walked around town, he bought me a milkshake, and then surprised me with a sudden, very sloppy kiss. I didn’t go out with him after that.

Soon after my date with Adorjan, I began getting asked out by boys more and more in a short period of time. I was flattered enough to agree to a date with Mihal who I had always thought was cute. He leaned in to kiss me no less than five times throughout the afternoon we spent together, but I was able to awkwardly dodge it each time. He seemed pretty put out by the end of the date and he didn’t ask me out again.

Niko was the next to ask, only a few days after Mihal. He put me at ease by joking about how embarrassingly forward Mihal was. We had a pleasant date at first; he was easy to laugh with. However, his jokes soon turned mean spirited when he started mocking a homeless man we passed by. I didn’t laugh along with him…but I didn’t tell him to stop either. After saying goodbye, I turned to go, but he then grabbed my hand and pulled me in to kiss him so hard that he bit my lip. I was so shaken up that I just walked away without a word.

The next day, Darielle cornered me. She told me that she heard that the boys had made a bet to see how many of them could kiss the princess. She said that she ‘just wanted to let me know so I stopped embarrassing myself’.

“Look _I’m_ not saying that you’re acting like a tramp, I’m just saying that _they_ might get the wrong idea, you know?” she said as she patted me on the shoulder with a sweet smile.

I was so humiliated that I couldn’t bring myself to tell my parents or brother what had been going on. I didn’t want to get scolded for being so gullible. I didn’t go on dates with boys from my friend group after that, but even so, things got worse as I got older. Particularly on my sixteenth birthday.

At the party, I became better acquainted with Jokubas, who was eighteen and so…mature. It was such a refreshing change from the childish boys I’d been associating with. I’d had a crush on him for a short time, and when he asked me to dance at my party, I eagerly accepted. He told me that I was mature too, which was validating as well as flattering. During the party, I wanted to show him a craft project I had been working on, so we stole away from the noise of the ballroom to my room upstairs. Once we were there, he kissed me, and I let him. He kissed me deeper than I had ever been kissed before, and I kissed him back.

But then…it went too far.

When he laid me down on my bed, I got nervous and asked him to get off. When he started to put his hand up my dress, I told him to stop. When I turned my face away, he turned it back. I tried to push him away, I told him I wasn’t ready, but…he wasn’t _listening_.

Then, both miraculously and horrifyingly, my parents discovered us. They had wondered where I had gone off too and came looking for me. I had never been so humiliated nor so relieved to see them in all my life. Upon being caught in our compromising position, Jokubas swiftly transformed from a charming, mature gentlemen to a slighted, beastly, man of rage right before my very eyes. He defended himself by insisting that I had wanted it. I flirted. I kissed him back. I brought him up to my _room_.

“Look at her and tell me that that _slut_ didn’t want it!” he spat. “She’s wearing a red dress for Ozsake!”

The red dress that I had picked out because it reminded me of my namesake flower. The dress that my mother bought me so that I could have something special to wear on my birthday. The dress that now sported a torn strap.

Dad nearly killed him right in front of me, and I spent the rest of my birthday sobbing in Mom’s arms. Though it gave me little solace in the moment, it did comfort me that my parents had believed me instantly and didn’t hesitate to have my back, each in their own way. I curiously never saw Jokubas again, and I speculated on whether or not Dad had enacted his rarely used, but legitimate power as king to banish a person from The Vinkus. I never found out for sure.

After that night, I was careful not to flirt or smile too much around men. I didn’t go out on dates, I stopped wearing red, and I constantly analyzed my appearance and actions.

But that still did not protect me from Councilman Liudvikas.

It was at a large, formal gathering at the castle. I was seventeen. The formalities of the night had ended and people were casually mingling and gambling in one of the smaller ballrooms. There was music and drinking...lots of drinking in the case of the councilmen.

I was sitting alone at a table off in the corner to rest my aching feet, when Councilman Liudvikas messily sat in the chair beside me.

“Dar niekada neturėjome princesės…” he slurred, his breath rotten with the scent of whiskey. “Gana gana graži mergaitė…” _(We’ve never had a princess before. Pretty pretty girl.)_

“Ačiū…” I nodded politely despite my discomfort. “Aš turėjau eiti…” _(Thank you. I should go…)_

I began to stand from my chair but he put a hand on my shoulder and slowly pushed me back down to take my seat.

“Smagu kad aplink pilį yra graži princesė…” he hiccupped. _(It’s fun to have a pretty princess around the castle.)_

Then, I felt it. His wrinkled hand rested on my knee and gave it a sure squeeze. I held my breath, _praying_ that I was imagining this, but I wasn’t. From under the table, his hand drifted upwards until it rested on my upper thigh and began to curve inwards. For a moment, I felt quite frozen in terror, but in a sudden strike, I was able to forcefully swat his hand away.

“Nulipkite nuo manes! Aš ketinu pasakyti savo Tėvui,” I warned in an urgent whisper. _(Get off of me! I am going to tell my father.)_

Something registered in his face, perhaps a flicker of fear, but then his expression darkened to one of malice.

“Ne, jūs nebūsite princesė,” he muttered under his breath in a suddenly sober voice. “Jei pasakysi savo tėvui, aš visiems tarybos nariams pasakysiu, kad sugalvojai mane išmesti iš tarybos. Tai bus visuose laikraščiuose. Ir kuo jie patikės? Garbingas tarybos narys ar meluojanti paauglė kekše?”

_(No, you’re not, princess. If you tell your father I'll tell everyone that you came up with the idea to get me thrown off council. It'll be in all of the papers. And who are they going to believe? An honorable member of the council or a lying teenage whore?)_

He flashed me a whiskey scented smile, gave my knee one more deliberate squeeze, and strode over to enjoy a cigar with the other councilmen. I sat there in horror for a long moment before numbly getting to my feet and moving to dash out of the hall. But, on my way out, I ran nearly headfirst into Dad.

“Whoa! Hey, Poppy girl. Why are you in such a hurry?” he laughed, placing his hands on my shoulders.

I was shaking like a leaf as I looked up at him, trying to remember how to breathe. I didn’t think, I just threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. Just for that moment, in my father’s arms, I felt safe again. 

“Hey…” he said in a concerned tone against my hair, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me back. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I looked up at him, considering telling him exactly what just happened, but suddenly voices screamed in my head.

_I’m not saying you’re acting like a tramp…_

_Look at that slut and tell me she didn’t want it…_

_Who would believe a lying teenage whore?_

Would it really be in the papers? Would he really lie about me? _Was_ it a lie? These things kept happening to me and I didn’t know why. If I was asking for it, I wasn’t sure how. I felt too disgraced, too ashamed to tell Dad what happened. Somehow…in some way…I felt like it was my fault.

I wanted to tell him. But I just couldn’t.

“Nothing, Daddy, I’m just tired…” I mumbled unconvincingly.

“Do you want to get dessert?” he offered. “Or maybe dance with your old dad if you’re not too embarrassed?”

He clearly wasn’t buying that nothing was wrong, for he had fallen into his tried and true ‘cheer up Poppy’ mode. Usually, my dad was my favorite person to spend time with, especially at an event like this, but I couldn’t bear to stay. I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Councilman Liudvikas.

“No, I think I'll just go to sleep…if that's okay...” I shook my head.

He furrowed his brow and looked at me for a long moment before sighing and reluctantly nodding.

“Okay, kiddo. Have a good rest. Aš tave myliu,” he reminded me, kissing me on the forehead. _(I love you.)_

That night, a dark cloud hung over me as I lay in bed.

_It’s been a while since we had a princess, it’s nice having a pretty princess around the castle._

Councilman Liudvikas had done more than put his repulsive hands on me. He had taken a fact I loved about myself and twisted it so that it made me feel ornamental and cheap. The fact that I was the first princess in generations used to make me feel so…special.

_You are special, Poppy._

His voice popped into my mind out of nowhere. Zyaire, my old friend from the repair shop…I hadn’t thought of him in quite some time. But his words came to me as a reminder when I felt like I needed them most. You are special, Poppy.

“I am…” I whispered aloud to myself. And I wouldn’t let anyone take that away from me.

◈◈◈

As much as I missed my family and Vilnius, and I did miss them terribly, I found myself thriving when I left to attend college. Locklimb Universitetas. A beautiful, tiny, Vinkun college with just enough fabulous people to keep me company. It didn’t hurt that Kiamo Ko, our family’s other castle, was conveniently only a short distance away from campus. It turned into the _perfect_ place for me to host gatherings…and what my parents didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

I had already been thoroughly enjoying my education, but my college experience only got richer and more meaningful after a fateful spring break during my second year at school. Months before he was to graduate college and begin training, Liir officially announced that he’d be abdicating his birthright to the throne. He had never wanted it…and I always _had_.

With Liir’s blessing, as well as the approval of my parents, I learned at the age of nineteen that I would someday be Queen of The Vinkus.

It was everything I had waited for since, well, since _birth_!

Everything fell into place as I accepted the honor of being heir, and I got the sense that I was becoming the person that I was always meant to be. It felt so right. I was to be the first queen _born_ into the Tigelaar family in nine generations. _This_ was my legacy; this was my _story_!

Emboldened by my new title as the Karalienė Laukiasi, or the Queen in Waiting, I didn’t hesitate to make a particularly strident ruling the very moment I could. The day after Liir abdicated, my family and I marched into the council room to confront the thirteen members of the Vinkun High Council.

See, on top of the gift of gab, I had also always had an acute aptitude for _eavesdropping_. When combined, these talents tended to come in handy when it came to exposing corruption. I had found out quite a few things about the councilmen that others were unaware of. With my parent’s authorization, which under my current power limitations was required for any decrees, I promptly dismissed no less than six councilmen from their positions for offenses ranging from theft to treason. Among the terminated members was Councilman Liudvikas…removed for sexual misconduct on a minor.

It was within our power, though rare, for the royal family to dismiss councilmembers with just cause. However, dismissing half the council in a single day was unprecedented and caused quite the stir. To upset things further, I declared that the now vacant positions were to be filled by councilwomen, which was _also_ unprecedented. The Vinkus was no stranger to powerful queens, but it was long overdue that women were represented in its council as well.

On an all-time high from making Vinkun history during spring break, my return to college felt exhilarating. Culture, fresh air, and, of course, the parties at Kiamo Ko.

Then Royce Runcorn walked into my life.

Royce was a handsome transfer student with fair, rosy skin and effortlessly wavy bronze hair. His blue-green eyes were framed by uncommonly long eyelashes, and he’d flash impeccably straight, pearly white teeth whenever he’d grin. I noticed him right away, and he noticed me right back. I hadn’t dated since attending college, but with Royce? I had to make an exception.

Royce Runcorn became my first proper boyfriend.

We were, objectively speaking, perfect together. He came from a wealthy Vinkun family who owned a manor in Upper Fanarra, had also declared Ozian & Vinkun Politics as his ‘ekspertizė’, and was naturally fluent in both languages. He was well aware of who my parents were and was impressively confident, even boisterous, when he met them on a weekend that they came to Kiamo Ko to visit me. He fit into my world like a puzzle piece. _(‘Expertise’)_

Royce was, by all accounts, a proper gentleman. However, while we had a perfectly nice time together in the early days of our courtship, it wasn’t long before I began closely scrutinizing my infatuation for him. The first time I began truly questioning my feelings for Royce was about three months into our relationship. He had bought me a dozen roses, picked me up at my dorm, and told me that he loved me over dinner. My gut reaction when he declared his love was… _oh_ … _alright_ …

Was this what love was supposed to feel like? If so, it was the tiniest bit unlike I anticipated.

I certainly thought Royce was decent and thoughtful. There wasn’t really anything not to like about him. I just thought that being in love would feel…different. I felt like it would be _more_. It was kind of a letdown, as if the world had talked the concept of love up a little too much. Maybe there wasn’t much more to it than what Royce Runcorn offered. Royce and I were easy, effortless, logical. We made _sense_. That was worth something, right?

So, I told him that I loved him too. And sometimes? I even thought that maybe I did.

The first time we slept together, which was the first time I had slept with anybody, I had that same feeling. Physically, it was fine. Emotionally? It didn’t thrill like I thought it would. I felt no desire, no rapture, no connection. However, while sex with Royce did not make me feel euphoric, it did not make me feel horrendible either. Given my past experiences…that felt good enough for me.

I began to exist in a lovey-dovey limbo with him. We courted, we slept together, we said that we loved each other. He bought more roses. I wasn’t miserable to be the subject of his benign affection…but I wasn’t happy either. No matter how many times I told myself I was.

Liir had met someone too while attending Shiz University, his boyfriend Trism. Liir and Trism were nothing like Royce and I…because they were in love. You could just tell from the way Liir talked about him, the way that he missed him when they were apart, the way that they looked at each other. Their love for each other was infectious and real, and I was so happy that Liir had gotten it. That romance, that person, that _something_.

I wanted it too. I wanted what he and Trism had. I wanted what Mom and Dad had. I wasn’t sure what was missing, but over time, it began to grow more difficult to ignore what I knew to be true. I didn’t have that _something_ with Royce.

Time, however, had not waited for me to sort out my feelings before it carried on, and one day, I woke to realize that I had somehow been with Royce for two years. I had wasted so much time pretending to be happy and putting off the inevitable that I now watched in horror as my window of opportunity to leave got smaller and smaller. He came around for holidays and castle events. His parents _loved_ me. His mother gave me a brooch that was a family heirloom. Journalists took pictures and wrote about us in the Vilnius newspaper. When we graduated college and I returned to the castle…he moved to Vilnius without a thought.

Before I could manage to come up for air, it was the summer after college graduation. I was at a castle event, dressed in a deep rose-colored ball gown with petal-like pieces of fabric trimming an off-the-shoulder neckline, when Royce called for me to join him on the ballroom floor. In front of an impressive crowd, he got down on one knee, pulled out a truly gargantuan ring, and asked me to be his bride.

Breath escaped me as I stared at the disorienting ring. I was being proposed to…and I felt nothing. I didn’t love the man before me. At least not enough. Then, a dreadful thought came to me. Maybe not everybody got real, fulfilling love. My parents did, Liir and Trism did, statistically speaking, what were the odds that I would too? From where I was standing, as hundreds of onlookers watched me with bated breath, it didn’t seem likely. But I did have Royce.

So, I said yes.

From the moment that ring slid onto my finger, a lasting heaviness, far heavier than the ring itself, began to bring me down.

The thunderous applause from the crowd sounded muffled and distant as Royce dipped me into a low kiss. I fastened on a forced smile for the rush of congratulations that smothered us right after, and I got the feeling that I’d have to keep it plastered on my face for a long time to come.

Maybe forever.


	6. A Rock and a Hard Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Unhappy romantic relationship // Family conflict // Alcohol use // OOC characterization*  
> *the AU personalities/descriptions of Liir and Trism will not align with their personalities in Gregory Maguire’s book, consider them as OCs with the same names

◈ **Chapter 6: A Rock and a Hard Place** ◈

Wedding planning began with such haste after the proposal that it nearly gave me whiplash.

Royce’s parents, Reynold and Timberly Runcorn, rented a house in Vilnius so they could be closer to the happy couple. However, they spent the majority of their time putting down their roots at the castle. Mrs. Runcorn was particularly invested in the planning and had a certain knack for popping up wherever Royce and I were. She insisted that I called her ‘Motina’, the Vinkun for ‘Mother’, and frequently pointed out when I wasn’t wearing the brooch that she’d passed down to me. I began keeping it in my purse or dress pocket at all times just in case she’d suddenly burst from concealment. I had become an expert at fastening it on in a hurry.

Mrs. Runcorn was also never without her tiny menace of a dog whose yapping could always be heard no matter which room of the castle you were in. She toted the dog around like an accessory, though her _new_ favorite accessory seemed to be me.

“Gauname ne tik dukrą, bet ir princesę! Tai tarsi laimėjimas loterijoje,” she’d loudly brag to any staff member she was able to corner, as if her son’s engagement was her own personal achievement. ( _We get not only a daughter, but also a princess! It’s like winning the lottery.)_

One evening in autumn, we all had dinner together at the castle with my parents and his. I barely remembered the meal. I found myself spacing out while staring at the design on the butter dish for the better part of the evening, marveling at how desperately heavy my ring finger felt. After Royce departed with Mr. and Mrs. Runcorn, I began heading back to my room without so much as a word to my parents. I was halfway up the staircase in the foyer when a voice called to me.

“Poppy, honey? Wait a moment.”

I turned on the stairs to see Mom striding up the steps to catch up with me.

“What is it?” I sighed.

“Is anything the matter?” she asked promptly.

“Nope. You know me, I’m always happy,” I said with a dismissive shrug.

“Poppy…” she raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Your father and I are concerned. You’ve been distant and moodified—”

“Oh please,” I scoffed in aggravation. “I have not. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“No, you don’t,” Mom pointed out matter-of-factly. “Or you wouldn’t be so unhappy.”

“I—” I faltered for a tick-tock as she saw right through me. How did she always do that? _Why_ did she always do that?!

An unexpected fury tore through me at once, as if it had been lying in wait under the surface all night and had needed to be prodded _just_ enough to emerge.

“Oh, yes. The wise _Elphaba Tigelaar_ who sees all, knows all! Has to know every pesky little detail of her daughter’s life!” I raged at her. “Tell me more about how I’m feeling!”

“Well forgive me for being concerned about my only daughter—and don’t raise your voice at me, young lady,” she reprimanded bitingly. 

“I’m not a _young lady_ , Mom! I can do anything I want—I’m the Karalienė Laukiasi of The Vinkus!” I unloaded. _(Queen in Waiting)_

Something just came over me sometimes. Mom didn’t understand me _at all_. Right now, all I wanted was to be alone, but she kept _needling_ me. I stalked up the rest of the stairs to get to the second landing and I could hear her following right behind.

“Poppy Laphira Tigelaar you will not walk away from me when I’m trying to talk to you! I don’t care if you’re an adult you will treat your mother with respect!”

“What do you want me to say?!” I blurted out hot-headedly as I turned to face her.

“You haven’t been yourself lately. You haven’t shown an interest in castle events, or going out with friends, for Ozsake you haven’t even asked to go _shopping_ —” she listed.

“Oh, don’t pretend you care about my interests now, Mother. It’s not as if you _share_ any of them!” I snapped.

“Poppy, you’ve been sulking around this place since the eng—”

“Please Mom, for the love of Oz, do everyone a huge favor and _mind your own business_!” I yelled straight to her face.

I stormed away, and this time she didn’t follow me. When I reached my room, I must have slammed the door so hard that a shelf on my wall rattled, causing a few of my keepsakes to fall from it. I groaned in frustration and started to pick up my belongings.

A framed photo of our old dog Killjoy, a clay castle figurine, and a round, grayish-black rock.

I paused when I saw the stone and picked it up, brushing off the thick layer of dust that had accumulated on it over time. I had forgotten all about it.

“Basalt,” I said out loud to myself.

I discarded the other fallen items onto my dresser and went to sit on my bed, turning the rock over a few times in my hand to feel its smoothness. I never did start that collection for myself, did I?

The basalt rested in the face-up palm of my right hand, and I curiously lifted my left hand up to the same height and flipped it face-down to view my engagement ring. My eyes shifted between my left hand and right as I examined them side by side. 

An elaborate, clearly expensive ring. It had a halo wrapped around a truly gigantic pear-shaped diamond with even _more_ diamonds and embellishments spanning across a rose gold band. 

And a plain river rock. Plucked from the banks of the Vinkus River and given freely.

There was really no way to compare the two gifts, but I found myself contemplating how these two very different stones made me feel very different things.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and the anger that had gradually been fading in my chest flared right back up again at the sound.

“Mama paliko mane vieną!” I shouted, not ready to talk to her just yet. _(Mom, leave me alone!)_

“Tai ne Mama.” _(It’s not Mom.)_

My face fell and I stared sheepishly at Dad as he pushed open the door and entered my room.

“Great, are you here to yell at me for yelling at Mom?” I mumbled, setting the rock aside on my nightstand.

“No, but I’m not happy about that,” he said simply.

Guiltily avoiding his gaze, I shifted my eyes upwards. The engagement ring on my finger was refracting enough light to cast a hideous sparkly design on the ceiling. I eyed it nervously as the weight of my finger grew nearly too heavy to stand.

“I won’t push you to talk if you don’t want to…” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

I said nothing as he moved to sit on my bed beside me. He ran a hand through his hair and casually nudged his shoulder against mine.

“I just wanted to remind you that your mother and I are on your side. Whatever is going on, not that anything is going on, you can talk to us.”

“I know, Daddy,” I sighed.

“I don’t like it when you don’t tell me things…” he muttered grimly.

I chanced a glance towards him, and my heart sunk with sympathy to see the look on his face. I assumed that he was referring to when he had found out about Councilman Liudvikas. The truth had finally been exposed when I cited the reason for his removal upon dismissing him from his council position, and I knew that it had been painful for Dad to learn about what happened to me. It hurt him even more to know that I had kept it a secret for so long.

Yet here I was keeping a secret again.

I thought about telling him everything at that moment. Telling him that I had somehow gotten stuck in an engagement that I didn’t want to be in. That I had gotten myself in such a twisted, tangled mess and I needed his help to get out of it. That I was scared.

I wanted to tell him. But I just couldn’t.

Then, surely sensing that I wasn’t ready, he sighed heavily and simply wrapped an arm around my shoulders. That was all. Unlike Mom, as much as he wanted to know something, he never pressed me to talk. I leaned my head against his shoulder gratefully, just allowing myself to feel safe with him for a moment.

“You know, your brother wrote to us. He and Trism are all settled in The Emerald City. He said he’s doing some kind of Vinkun culture—uh…panel thingy over there,” he said vaguely, looking both proud and a little confused as he often was with matters regarding Liir. “I’m sure he’d love for you to visit.”

I thought about that for a moment. I did miss Liir desperately, it would be nice to see him and Trism. Besides, the castle felt… _suffocating_ lately.

“I’ll reach out…see if they want company…” I nodded.

“What a good idea! Isn’t your dad brilliant?” he said brightly, standing up and heading towards the door.

“You’re a genius, Dad,” I laughed weakly.

“Oh, and Poppy?” he said, stopping in the doorway on his way out. “Apologize to your mom. Make things right before you go.”

“Why, because she’ll pester you about it if I don’t?” I muttered bitterly.

“No, because I love her, and I don’t like seeing how sad she gets when you two fight,” he said seriously before closing the door behind him.

◈◈◈

Liir was delighted when I offered to come to visit. He and I used to bicker terrifically when we were kids, and we still did, but as adults we were now quite close. After abdicating, he and Trism decided to travel around Oz to live in new places. He’d always had the desire to roam whereas I couldn’t even bear to leave The Vinkus for college. I missed having him around, but I could tell he was happy with the path he took. Though I’d never show it, I was quite proud of him. It seemed we had both gotten what we wanted out of life…at least in regards to the throne.

I found myself getting more excited for the time away. Away from the castle, my parents, Royce and his mother _._ When I saw Royce the next day, I informed him of my plans.

“Liir is doing some kind of panel in The Emerald City. I was thinking of visiting him for a few days,” I told him.

“Fantastic! That sounds like great fun,” he enthused.

“Yes, it will be! I haven’t seen him for a few months and—”

“I had some plans with Mother but I’m certain I can reschedule those. I haven’t been to The Emerald City in years, believe it or not,” Royce shared.

“Oh…actually, Royce, I was thinking—”

“This is so spontaneous! I can hardly wait. This will be splendid for us,” he kissed me indulgently and began to head away. “I’ll go pack, just tell me when our train is and I’ll meet you there presently. See you soon, my little rosebud.”

That did not go as planned.

As promised, I did make things right with Mom before leaving. I had mumbled a rather pathetic apology, but somehow, she could tell that I meant it. She merely pulled me into her arms and gave me a long hug. For some reason, the hug made me feel oddly lonely. I was quite close with both of my parents, in different ways, but the burden of my secret was making me feel isolated from them.

“As tave myliu, Mama,” I sighed. _(I love you, Mama.)_

“As tave myliu, Poppy,” she sighed back. She pulled out of the hug and cupped the sides of my face. “Safe travels, my sweet. Give Liir my love too.”

“Are we…”

“All is forgiven,” she assured me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

◈◈◈

Liir and Trism greeted us at the station when Royce and I arrived. When I saw my brother, I ran straight at him and nearly tackled him to the ground in an eager hug.

If I was my father’s daughter, then Liir was his mother’s son. He had always been bookish, crazy intelligent, and perhaps a bit of a loner. He had short, often tousled black hair, and though he had a complexion similar to mine, he was born with a tiny green birthmark behind his left shoulder. And, of course, from almost the moment he was born, it was apparent that he had inherited my mother’s magical gift—or _curse,_ depending who you asked. Liir and Dad both had blue eyes, similar blue diamond tattoos which Liir had gotten just before graduating college, and, coincidentally, the same birthday. The comparisons between the two of them largely ended there. Liir and I were about as unalike as two siblings could be, and we couldn’t be tighter.

“Look at you, big city boy!” I beamed, messing up his hair a bit. “Wearing green and everything. I’ll bet Mom is _so_ jealous that you live here.”

“He talks about how much he misses you constantly!” Trism ratted Liir out immediately.

“Shut up! I do _not_ ,” Liir whacked his boyfriend on the shoulder before looking back to me.

“Okay, maybe I’ve missed you a _little_. I haven’t even seen you since—” he stopped short, suddenly noticing Royce behind me.

Yeah. Since the engagement. My smile faltered for a second, but I fixed it as I linked arms with Liir to walk beside him as Trism and Royce pulled our suitcases along.

We spent the evening catching up and playing games in their apartment. Trism adopted the role of host and entertainer, and my stomach hurt from laughing after his turn at charades. Trism bon Cavalish was Gillikinese through and through with curly blond hair, green eyes, and pale, peachy skin. He had an angular face that sprouted pronounced dimples whenever he’d crack a joke and he had the most infectious laugh of anyone I’d ever encountered. He also loved my brother, who he had been with for over four years now, very, _very_ much. That in itself was enough for me to hold him dear, and my parents felt very much the same. Simply put, Trism was part of the family.

Royce retired to the guest room early so it was just the three of us up late into the early morning as we finished off another bottle of wine. 

“Mmm…pink goes good with green,” I commented foggily, polishing off my nearly full glass of rosé as I lounged on their emerald chaise.

“I…think I’m off to bed too, love,” Trism decided before offering Liir a tender kiss goodnight. Liir squeezed Trism’s hand as he went off to their bedroom.

“And then there were two,” I announced, toasting towards my brother.

“You know…when you said you were coming to visit…I guess I thought it was just going to be _you_ ,” Liir commented, glancing towards the closed door of the spare bedroom.

“Yeah, so did I,” I muttered bitterly, leering into my now empty wine glass.

“Alright there, sesė?” he asked, giving me a funny look. _(Sister?)_

“Oh, sweet Oz. First Mom and Dad and now you!? I’m _fin_ e,” I groaned dramatically. “I’m engaged, I’m on vacation, I couldn’t be happier.”

“Okay, fine. Just know that if you ever—”

“Ooh, let me guess. If I ever want to talk, you’re here for me?” I predicted snarkily. “Thanks. Ačiū. Got it.”

He dropped the issue then. I didn’t blame him.

“Alright, well it’s a big day tomorrow so I should get some rest. Help yourself to anything you want…though I think you’ve had enough wine,” Liir pointed out gently. “Sleep well, sesė.”

After Liir retired to his room with Trism, I peered unfeelingly towards the spare room. Through my haze of rosé, I listened as Royce’s piercing snores crept ever closer from the other side, filling me with spiky dread.

I slept on the couch.


	7. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Unhappy/toxic romantic relationship // Microaggressions

◈ **Chapter 7: Old Friends** ◈

The next day, the four of us arrived early to the library for the panel. I decided to embrace The City by wearing a knee-length, full skirted, emerald green taffeta dress, but I still took care to don a pair of my fake blue diamond earrings. I had to represent The Vinkus somehow in this sea of green.

A podium was set up for Liir and a poster beside it advertised a speaker from “ _Winkie Country_ ”. Liir and I shared an aggravated look upon seeing the sign. If there was one thing people from The Vinkus hated, it was being called a _Winkie_. Hoping the poster wouldn’t get to his head, I just reminded Liir that this was why his work in educating people about The Vinkus was so important.

Regardless, Liir began getting fidgety and nervous. He had always gotten anxious over public speaking, even to small crowds like this was expected to be. His phobia had even been a contributing factor in his decision to abdicate. Trism, who had the power to soothe him like no one else, took him aside to help him calm down and focus.

Royce took his seat and saved me a spot as he studied the brochure for the event. In order to stall for time before I had to take my place beside him, I began meandering off on my own in between the tall rows of bookshelves near the event set up as attendees filed in for the panel. I flipped mindlessly through a paperback book, leisurely eavesdropping on whatever scattered conversations I could pick up through the shelves, when something I heard gave me pause. 

“I—er…laukiu renginio. Mano _tėvas_ yra iš Vilnius. It is my—tai mano—mėgstamiausia vieta,” an attendee spoke. _(I—er—look forward to the event. My father is from Vilnius. It is my—it is my—favorite place.)_

My eyes widened and my body froze. The voice was hard to make out through the bookcase as it competed with a roomful of mingled conversations…but I had only heard Vinkun that hesitant, that charmingly mispronounced from one other person before. I dropped the book I was holding onto the floor and urgently moved to lean an ear closer to the shelf to focus on the conversation. It couldn’t be…could it?

“Er—I’m sorry. I actually don’t speak Vinkun yet. My boyfriend is the one doing the panel,” Trism, apparently responding to the attendee, chuckled. “I could go grab him? See if he can translate?”

These circumstances felt so unreal that I briefly wondered if I was dreaming. I held my breath as I slowly stepped out from behind the bookshelf to see for myself if my suspicions were correct. I spotted Trism speaking to someone who had their back turned.

“Oh, you know what? His sister is actually right over there! I’m sure she could help…” Trism pointed me out. The attendee began to turn to look in my direction as Trism waved me over. “Oi! Hey—”

“Poppy…” the attendee softly finished Trism’s sentence.

I had not been mistaken.

The years had changed him, and they had certainly been kind. His form, now sporting a subtly muscular build, was less gangly. His voice resonated a touch deeper. The soft edges of adolescence had faded to form the defined features of an adult man. However, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. His castaneous complexion, his jet hair that he kept shaved closed to his head, and his expressive amber eyes still framed by those wire rimmed glasses…were all just how I remembered them. Most notably, the smile that I had come to know during our shared summer of shenanigans remained quite unchanged as it erupted across his face to grace my life once more. I’d know him anywhere.

“Zyaire…” I said breathlessly.

For a moment, we merely stared in hushed astonishment, checking and double checking our senses to ensure that we were not participating in a shared delusion. Then, our mutual stupor broke and we both found ourselves idiotically grinning at each other, laughing out loud at the sheer kismet of our meeting.

“Sweet Oz, as I live and breathe! Zyaire Andris, what are you doing here?!” I smiled terrifically, striding a few steps towards him.

“I _live_ here. What are _you_ doing here!?” he reminded me with a short laugh, rushing to meet me halfway.

“What has it been, six years? Seven?” I speculated.

“Has to be seven.”

“Your Vinkun is still _terrible_ ,” I tormented with a wicked smirk.

“Hey, that guy thought I spoke Vinkun!” he pointed towards Trism who had returned to Liir, probably to give us space for our reunion. 

“Oh, Trism didn’t buy it for a clock-tick!” I pushed him on the shoulder.

“I never thought I’d live to see Poppy Tigelaar in The Emerald City! You even dressed for the occasion, very _Ozmopolitan_ ,” he complimented.

“I figured while I was in town, I’d try to blend in with all of you City snobs,” I simpered, smoothing out the skirt of my dress.

“ _You_ live in a city,” he pointed out.

“Vilnius is different!” I insisted passionately.

“Yeah…it is…” he breathed.

We took a moment to catch a breath, beaming stupidly as we took each other in. From the way we were talking, it felt like the years hadn’t passed at all. A warmth started to glow in my chest and slowly began expanding throughout me until—

“Oh, rosebud?” I felt someone poke at my shoulder. “Shall you introduce me to your acquaintance?”

The intruding voice conjured the feeling of someone slowly spilling ice water over me so that it trickled down my neck and spine, extinguishing my warm glow in its frigid wake. Distracted by the delight of seeing my friend again, I had all but forgotten about…Royce.

“Oh yes…of course. Royce, this is Zyaire. We’re old friends. Zyaire, this is Royce. He’s my…fiancé…” I trailed off, the word _fiancé_ passing through my lips like acid.

“Yes! See?” Royce boasted, lifting up my left hand to show off my ring as if it were a trophy of his.

I wasn’t able to look Zyaire directly in the eye to gage his reaction, but even in my periphery I could see his eyes bulge at the sight of the massive diamond. I couldn’t place why, but I felt tremendously uncomfortable, even remorseful, to admit to Zyaire that I was engaged. Whatever his initial reaction, he seemed to recover quickly as he offered the pair of us a brave smile.

“Wow! I mean—sweet Oz that ring sure is…I mean that’s a _rock_ , you know?” he chuckled awkwardly at his own joke. “Uh—congratulotions!”

“Why, thank you! We couldn’t be happier, right dear?” Royce prompted me, winding an arm around my shoulder to attach me to his side. I just forced a faint smile and gingerly shrugged out of his embrace.

“Well, uh…Liir is about to start speaking soon and I said I’d be up front because he gets nervous. Would you like to grab lunch after this?” I asked Zyaire hopefully.

“I’m free for lunch!” he accepted at once. “I actually know a great café just up the street, I think you’d love it.”

“Fantastic! The three of us will do lunch!” Royce wormed in.

“Yes…fantastic. I guess we’ll see you after the event,” I nodded. Royce began pulling my hand along to follow him back to our seats but I released it to turn back to Zyaire with a thoughtful look.

“Zyaire…it’s really, _really_ good to see you.”

“You too, Poppy…” he smiled softly.

There was no spot available beside Royce and I, if there had been, I would have invited Zyaire to join us. While Liir spoke, I chanced a glance behind me once or twice to sneak peeks at Zyaire, who stood in the back listening intently. He even had a small notepad to take notes in which was so dorky I could barely stand it. Liir did an incredible job with his presentation, he was a little soft spoken, but handled the Q&A expertly. Zyaire even asked some questions. I just sat in my seat reflecting on how bizarre it was to have my brother, my fiancé, and my old friend all in the same room. 

I congratulated Liir on a job well done and told him about the lunch plans, promising to meet up with him at their apartment later. Zyaire was hanging back as he waited for me, fidgeting with his folded brochure.

“Your brother is a compelling speaker,” he said when I approached him. “People in The Emerald City know almost nothing about what goes on in The Vinkus—or anywhere besides here for that matter. We kind of live in a bubble, you know?”

“Yeah, I gathered that from the sign they put up…” I muttered, nodding my head towards the _‘Winkie Country’_ poster.

“I saw that…” he sighed frustratedly.

“Know what? Cover me,” I decided determinedly.

I casually strolled over to the poster, checked my surroundings, and boldly tore it off of the board before stealthily darting back over to Zyaire. Without missing a beat, he took the poster from me and crumpled it into a ball, looking behind his shoulder once before chucking it into a nearby waste bin.

“Hmm…Zyaire, did you see an offensive poster anywhere?” I prompted sarcastically.

“Poster? Nah, I don’t see a poster,” he played along, offering a conspiratorial wink. I clapped a hand over my mouth for a moment to stifle my laughter over our waggishness.

“You should tell Liir you liked his presentation if you get the chance,” I mentioned. “He hates public speaking, but he’s so smart and has so much to say.”

“Must run in the family,” he grinned.

“Well, I’m sure you can remember that I always have a lot to s—”

“So! I hear you know of a charming eatery?”

Right, Royce.

Zyaire led us to a quaint café and we took a booth in the corner—all three of us. I sat across the table from Zyaire and Royce slid beside me as close as he could get without being in my lap. While the first few minutes between the three of us may have been slightly awkward, Zyaire and I were already in a fit of hysterical laughter by the time the waitress came to take our drink orders.

“Do you remember when I hid behind the shelf and spoke Vinkun while you mouthed along the words to that customer?” I gasped, tears almost springing to my eyes at the side-splitting memory.

“He was so confused!” Zyaire wheezed. “Remember when we tried to see how many shipment boxes we could stack before they tipped over?”

“That did _not_ end well. Oz—why your dad put up with us I’ll never know. He probably lost business because of our chaos!” I took a deep breath, trying to calm down from my fit of giggles.

“I think he secretly liked it—things got pretty dull when you weren’t around. You know, I think Dad has more of a sense of humor than we give him credit for,” Zyaire said.

“Tell me, how is your dad?” I asked curiously.

“He’s fantastic actually—get this—he’s getting _married_. He found this really nice woman and he and Great Grandmother are moving into her cottage up the road from the shop.”

“That’s so great! Oh—I’m so happy for him. And Great Grandmother Alusia! So, she’s still…” I stopped myself before saying anything insensitive. “I mean—you know…she’s still…”

“Alive? Oh yeah. Alive and strong. That woman is going to bury us all. She seems hell bent on witnessing as many Tigelaar generations as she can!” Zyaire laughed.

“Oh, well the next Tigelaar generation should not take too long of a time to arrive. It will be when the Missus and I have children, after all. Isn’t that right, my rosebud?” Royce said sweetly.

This time, the bucket of ice water dumped over my head all at once, submerging me in icy horror as the most unbearable silence I had ever sat through crashed over us. 

“Wait, hold on a clock-tick—” I stammered.

Children. With _Royce Runcorn_.

“You are going to be the queen one day, that will make our children the heirs. How marvelous is that to think about?” Royce asked, capturing my hand. “Little Runcorn Tigelaars.”

“Um…I mean I guess that’s technically right...” I swallowed, my throat feeling as dry as the Thursk desert.

We suffered through another truly horrific silence until, surprisingly, it was Zyaire that broke it.

“Wait…did he say queen?”

“Well, yes,” I nodded to him, as if it were common knowledge. “Wait…don’t you know?”

He didn’t know. Of course, he didn’t. He said it himself, he lived in the emerald bubble. Vinkun news hardly ever made it over here.

“Well, a few years ago, Liir abdicated his birthright to the throne. So, now it will now go to the next in line…which is me,” I explained simply. “I will be queen someday.”

Zyaire’s mouth dropped open for a moment before his face split into a proud grin

“ _Poppy_! Queen Poppy Tigelaar! Wow—I—” he reached over the table to offer me a high five. I laughed and slapped my hand to his, finding it hilarious that we were high fiving over something as solemn as my future coronation. 

“I don’t know what to say. I remember you telling me that being queen was your dream and…you did it! That’s so…that’s so _awesome_ ,” he exhaled a long breath, shaking his head.

Despite the uncomfortable topic that had preceded this one, I couldn’t help but glow at his encouragement. It was. It _was_ awesome.

“Of course, I’m still in training with my parents. I won’t be coronated until they step down a long time from now or—Oz forbid—they kick the bucket,” I explained before changing the subject. “But tell me about yourself _,_ though! Where did you attend college, what do you do now?”

After so much time apart, I was more interested to hear about him than I was to talk about myself.

“Emerald University, right here in The City. Mom has connections to the admissions office and they got me in on nearly a full ride. And it’s no claim to a _throne_ or anything—but I mostly work in construction. Some maintenance. I basically build and paint a lot of buildings,” he shrugged.

“Do you get tired of painting things green?” I quipped.

“I get _really_ tired of painting things green—” he confirmed with a hearty laugh.

“So, do you—”

“My _betrothed_ and I met at Locklimb Universitetas. Didn’t we, rosebud?” Royce interrupted in a nettlesome tone, slowly pulling me back across the booth with his arm until our hips collided with each other.

“Oh, yes. Brangusis senasis Locklimb,” I acknowledged, patting my heart. “Wonderful school. Anyway, what kind of—” _(Dear old Locklimb.)_

“We fell in love almost at once, didn’t we? It was quite the fairytale plot. I have my very own princesė, don’t I?” he preened, now making direct eye contact with Zyaire. _(Princess)_

That’s how the pattern went. Zyaire and I would get caught up in some banter or an old inside joke and then Royce would creep his way into our conversation to speak of our enchanted relationship. Still, even with my fiancé acting as a thorn in my side, it felt unbelievably refreshing to talk to Zyaire again.

“Who knew?” I sighed, leaning against my hand as I looked across the table. “It’s been just over seven years, but it feels like no time has passed. It could have been yesterday that I was sprinting to the shop to say goodbye.”

“Well…that summer was special…” he reflected.

“Yes, it was,” I agreed, feeling oddly stirred by his choice of words. “I mean, you were my best friend…and my first kiss.”

“I was? You were mine too—I had no idea that was your first kiss!”

“Wait, _what_? Rosebud—”

“It was! That’s so funny that neither of us knew that!”

“ _You two kissed_?!” Royce exclaimed pointedly. Zyaire and I stopped reminiscing at once, exchanging a quick glance before I turned my attention to a bristled Royce.

“Well yes—just once. _Years_ ago,” I clarified.

“I just don’t know why you would hide this from me,” Royce said in an uncharacteristically prickly tone. “Here I was thinking you two were just _friends_ —”

“We _are_ friends—”

“But now I find out that you were together?!”

“Royce, listen, we weren’t _together_. We were fifteen—we were idiot teenagers—we shared an innocent kiss before he moved away,” I placated. “It didn’t mean anything.”

Even as the words passed through my lips in an attempt to mollify Royce, I knew that they were false. Our kiss hadn’t meant nothing…it had meant a great deal.

“Of course. Of course, my rosebud. I am sorry for being sharp,” Royce apologized sweetly as he planted a kiss on my hand. “After all, one’s first kiss doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things, not when that person is now with their true love, right?”

“Right…” I trailed off. True love.

“Hey Poppy, I might just head out,” Zyaire said from across the table. “Thank you for inviting me, I had a really good time.”

I looked back to him quickly, my heart sinking at his tone.

“Well don’t you worry about a thing, Zyaire. Lunch is on me,” Royce smirked. “I’m certain construction is taxing work with… _little_ payout.”

“Thanks,” Zyaire replied tersely before his eyes shifted my way. He paused for a moment, as if waiting for something, but then he simply sighed. “Bye, Poppy.”

He slid out of the booth and headed for the exit. Before he could get too far, I stood up and looked back to Royce. 

“I’m going to walk him out,” I said flatly, leaving him behind in the booth as I exited the café as well.

“Wait!” I called after Zyaire as I stepped out onto the street outside. He turned around and waited for me, absentmindedly kicking some dirt on the ground.

“Listen, don’t worry about Royce,” I breathed once I caught up to him. “He’s a sweet guy. He can just be a little delicate sometimes…”

“It’s okay, Poppy. Look—it was really _so_ good to see you,” he insisted genuinely, offering a weak smile before beginning to turn away.

No. I didn’t want him walking away feeling the way I was sure he was feeling.

“Zyaire, I was lying,” I blurted out to stop him.

“About what?” he asked, looking at me expectantly.

“Um…when I said it didn’t mean anything. I was lying. It…actually meant a lot to me,” I murmured. “I just thought you should know.”

I knew he would know what I meant. He hesitated for a moment, observing me warily, before I noticed his shoulders relax.

“It meant a lot to me too,” he admitted softly. We stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Um, listen—I’m actually going to be in Vilnius in a few months for Dad’s wedding. It’s just a small gathering, I’m sure you could even come if you wanted. Maybe when I’m in town we can meet up again?”

“Name the place and the time and I’ll be there,” I promised. “It’ll be just like old times.”

“Well…maybe not _just_ like old times,” he smirked half-heartedly. “You know, I really am happy for you, Poppy.”

“Thank you…” I said softly, wondering if he really meant that. Wondering if I wanted him to mean that.

“Anyway…I’ve got to head out. Have a good rest of your trip, okay?” he offered as he began to turn away.

“ _Wait_ —Zyaire?” I said suddenly.

Without thinking, I closed the distance between us and pulled him into a strong hug. He didn’t hesitate to hug me back tightly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, overwhelmed with gratitude to have seen my old friend…my _best_ friend…again.

“I was right and you were wrong, you know,” I informed him as I pulled away.

“And why is that?” he raised his eyebrows.

“You thought we’d never see each other again…and I said we would,” I reminded him.

Then, a real, genuine grin spread across his face. The sight of it seemed to reactivate sensations within me, sensations that had been inactive for so long that I had all but forgotten of their existence. My heart raced, my face flushed, and long dormant butterflies took their flight in my stomach once more. 

He put his hands in his pockets and laughed incredulously, shaking his head slightly as he took me in.

“Well then…I have _never_ been so happy to be wrong.”


	8. The Champagne Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Heavy alcohol use // Drunkenness // Unhappy romantic relationship

◈ **Chapter 8: The Champagne Train** ◈

I was flying high for the rest of the trip after my fateful encounter with Zyaire, however, reality crashed back in the moment Royce and I stepped foot back in Vilnius. When I entered the castle, dozens of wedding centerpiece samples were there waiting for me to evaluate. It seemed Mrs. Runcorn, along with the wedding planner she hired without consulting me, were rather impatient to continue planning.

However, within a few months at the turn of the new year, a different event got to temporarily take the spotlight.

“Fiyero, you and I celebrate our anniversary every year,” Mom pointed out. My parents and I were sharing a rare evening together with just the three of us. No Royce. No Runcorns.

“Yeah, _privately_. But this is our twenty-fifth, Elphaba! Twenty-five years. Are you telling me that our marriage surviving for twenty-five years isn’t worth a party?!” Dad appealed.

“Oh, our marriage has just survived, has it?” she responded dryly. “How romantic, Yero."

“Our marriage has thrived. _Flourished_. What do you want from me, Fae? I just want to celebrate the fact that twenty-five years ago you ran barefoot to my dorm and begged me to elope.”

“I did not beg,” she protested.

“You did.”

“Oh, you jumped at the chance, Yero! You said yes right away!”

“Of course, I did. How could I say no? You were so cute in your robe, holding those poppies in your hand…”

“Well, it was very sweet of you to leave those poppies in my room.”

“Elphaba…twenty-five years ago you made me the happiest idiot in all of Oz. Let’s just throw a party to shove it in their faces all over again…hm?”

Mom arched an eyebrow at him and then her lips curled into a wicked smile.

“Fiyero…I would _love_ to have a twenty-fifth anniversary party with you. I just like to see you beg,” she smirked.

“I did not beg,” he protested.

“You did.”

Dad captured Mom’s hand and pressed a lingering kiss to it. Their eyes met and they stared at each other lovingly, presumably reminiscing about their wedding day. After a long moment, Mom caught my glance as if she only now remembered that I was there. Her skin flushed to a darker shade of green, slightly embarrassed to be caught in a tender moment with Dad.

“What are you staring at?” she muttered in a flustered tone.

“My dorky parents…who are still desperately in love after twenty-five whole years of marriage,” I said endearingly, leaning my hand against my cheek. 

I promised Dad that I would help him prepare, we were the party planning dream team after all. As an added bonus, it kept me too busy to plan the wedding with the Runcorns. Dad couldn’t resist recounting memories of he and Mom’s engagement, elopement, and newlywed days at Shiz as we planned together. I usually gave them grief for their sappy stories, but lately, when I saw how excited Dad was to celebrate Mom…when I’d catch Mom staring at Dad with that fond, exasperated smile… I just didn’t have the heart to do so. 

“And of course, we would love for you to give a toast,” Dad requested. “We’d ask Liir too, but you know how he is with crowds.”

“Sure…I would love to,” I accepted, feeling both flattered and oddly nervous at the prospect of making a speech about love.

Before we knew it, the evening of January the thirteenth had arrived.

Liir and Trism were able to make it into town for the party which put everyone in a cheery mood. The decorations, which embodied my parents' love story in each detail, created a lush, romantic atmosphere in our main ballroom. It was some of Dad and I’s best work. The catering was inspired by what they had for dinner that night, green tablecloths symbolized The Emerald City where they eloped, and of course, there were poppies in every centerpiece.

Poppies, the flowers my mother held in her hand as she ran to my father’s dorm that early morning. The flower that was so important to them that they named their daughter for it. I was sitting at my table the night of the celebration, sipping on champagne and fondly admiring the red blooms, when two hands covered my eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Hello, Royce.”

My fiancé sat down and wound his arm around me as always. I finished off my glass.

“Attractive party, is it not? Not as lovely as the night you became my intended, of course,” he said with a mellow laugh, reaching forward to tuck some of my hair behind my ear.

“Right…” I muttered, flinching at his touch with a hint of irritation. “Are you going to finish that?”

I took his champagne flute and began sipping at it generously.

The crowd then hushed as Dad stepped onto the ballroom floor. He took a breath before extending his hand out towards his wife. Mom wore a regal black ball gown with long-sleeves, and Dad beamed idiotically when he saw her slowly move forward to join him on the ballroom floor. She took his hand and he tenderly took her waist, leaning in to whisper something unheard into her ear. I noticed Mom soften and smile wryly at whatever he had said, a tell-tale sign of her affection, before looking up to meet his eyes with a look of such profound love that it made my heart ache. A song that Dad picked out for them began playing and, to celebrate twenty-five years spent as a pair, they began to dance.

The room belonged to them. Having borne witness to their rare and enduring love since I was born, I recognized the scene well. They had fallen under each other’s spell, unaware and unbothered by anything, as if nobody else in all of Oz even existed. Dad’s expert dance lead began melting away Mom’s steady exterior until she seemed to have finally lost all resistance. Her coy smirk had transformed into a full, unrepressed, deliriously happy smile as Dad spun her, dipped her, and appeared to murmur little jokes or words of love when he clutched her waist to pull her closer. Just for that moment, whether they were aware of it or not, they allowed others to see just how brightly they shined.

My parents were the unlikeliest pair you could imagine, but time and time again, they effortlessly defied the odds stacked against them. I wasn’t sure if it was the occasion or the champagne, but I felt truly humbled in that moment to be a product of their love. However, my vicarious joy soon wilted when Royce, leaning in so close that his overpoweringly fragrant cologne left me lightheaded, whispered something in my ear.

“That’ll be us someday.”

My whole body stiffened as I felt a sudden, powerful fury surge through my veins. The fact that he had the audacity to compare our hollow, performative, _deeply shallow_ relationship to that of my parent’s enraged me. That’ll be _us_ someday!? His reckless comment left me feeling intensely insulted, repulsed… _stuck_.

My hands trembled with repressed wrath as I downed the rest of Royce’s champagne, trying to envision him and I dancing in this very ballroom twenty-five years from now, our children watching in awe of our perfect love—

“ _Ha!_ ” I cackled harshly at the absurd imagining. Royce raised an eyebrow at me, startled by my withering laugh.

“Are you quite alright, my rosebud?”

“Why do you call me that?” I groused bitterly. “ _Rosebud_.”

“I bought you roses the night I told you I loved you. Remember that?”

“Yeah— _why_ though? Why roses? You couldn’t have thought of any other flower that might be appropriate for me?” I asked, vaguely gesturing to the centerpiece of poppies right in front of us.

“Are you saying you don’t _like_ flowers?” he asked, his smile twitching for an instant.

“Of course, I like flowers!” I responded in a bewildered tone. “My name is literally P—"

“Then I don’t see the problem,” he rebutted in a slightly barbed tone. Then, his grin quickly grew back. “Why, roses are just so lovely…much like my fiancé.” 

“Forget it,” I scowled, unable to endure his presence any longer.

I stood up and stalked off, determined to put as much distance between myself and Royce as possible. I grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing tray and began squinting around the room, searching for anyone else I could talk to. Liir and Trism were cozy at a table off to the side. Mom and Dad had also settled into their table by now, heads bent together in soft conversation. Everyone was pairing off…and everyone was in love.

Then there was me.

Not wanting to third wheel any lovers, I became a wallflower on the outskirts of the celebration, gorging myself on so much champagne that I swore I could feel the bubbles fizzing in my stomach. As I lifted the flute to my lips, my engagement ring obstructed my view. Violently lustrous as ever, it gave off such a sheen that for minutes after looking directly at it, my vision was harassed by its prismatic outline each time I blinked. I clinked the pear-shaped monstrosity against the glass flute in my hand…and suddenly found myself giggling at the sound. Something was suddenly so amusing about me owning this dazzling ring…when I didn’t even want to be engaged! It was hysterical!

“Hey, Poppy?” my brother all but materialized out of thin air.

“Liir!” I greeted him excitedly, placing a hand on his shoulder to balance myself. “I am _so_ happy you’re here. There’s no place like home, huh?”

“Um…it’s time for you to give your toast. Are you ready?” he asked hesitantly.

“Okay but first, listen to this…” I clinked my ring against the champagne flute again, devolving into another fit of giggles at the sound. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Maybe we should hold off for—" 

“No, I’m _totally_ ready!” I insisted confidently, nodding my head and looking him square in the eye to prove how sober I was. “Totally ready, this is going to go great.”

Without another word I left his side to confidently march onto the stage, still holding my empty glass in my ring hand. Vision altered by the alcohol; it took me a tick-tock to spot the people of honor in the crowd. My eyes slowly focused on my parents sitting expectantly at their table. Weren’t they cute? Oh, my parents, my parents. Fiyero and Elphaba. Elphaba and Fiyero. What could I say about those two that hadn’t already been said?

“My mom and dad…” I hiccupped. “Whoops. Um—first I’d like to say hey to Mom and Dad. Congratulotions on getting married, good call on that. Also hello to everyone else…and to my brother Liir Tigelaar! He’s in town, everybody, so make sure you all say hi if you see him. Just not all at once—he’s super shy. Uh…yeah.”

I halted my rambling for a moment as my vision unintentionally flicked over the ring. When I caught sight of it this time…it didn’t seem funny anymore. My ring. My blinding, garish, horrendible, _heavy_ —

“Remember when you were a kid and you thought that the way _your_ parents acted was the way that _all_ parents acted?” I hypothetically posed to the crowd. “Like if your parents were pretty much just roommates, you thought that was what marriage was like for all couples. Right? Or if your parents fought all the time and hated each other you thought, uh oh! Marriage looks like it _sucks_. But of course, then you grow up and you realize that there are a bunch of different kinds of couples and every relationship is unique and blah blah blah. Whatever, you all get it. My point is, your parents set the first example for what love will be like, right?”

I didn’t feel at all in control of what was coming out of my mouth. Conductor Champagne was controlling this train and I was just along for the ride. I was just as interested to see where I was going with this that everyone else was.

“But you know something? People never think about the kids who grow up with parents who set the example of just being _really_ super into each other. Does anyone ever think to check up on those kiddos to see how well-adjusted they’re turning out? Nope. Well, hi there, I’m Poppy Tigelaar and I’m one of those kids. My parents—see them over there? They are so crazy, _stupid_ in love with each other that sometimes…sometimes I feel like there isn’t going to be any love left for the rest of us!” I gave an inebriated laugh.

Nobody laughed with me, but nevertheless, the train chugged onward.

“They’ve been married for twenty-five years to—the— _day_. But the thing is, their anniversary wouldn’t have even _been_ on this day if my mom hadn’t decided that she just couldn’t wait another clock-tick to marry my dad. She didn’t even stop to put _shoes_ on to go ask him! So, they eloped on a weekday in January. Isn’t that just so…I mean, imagine it. It’s a weekday in January and these two college kids say—hey let’s just get married today! _And it worked_. How is anyone in Oz supposed to top that? Yeah, you can’t. And their passion didn’t die twenty-five years ago, no, that’s the insane thing. Some couples are hot and heavy in the beginning but then their romance just kind of—” I blew a long razzberry and gave a thumbs down to elegantly illustrate my point.

“Right? Not Fiyero and Elphaba, though. If anything, they love each other more _now_ than they did back then. You don’t understand. My parents once built a blanket fort in our den—for themselves—and just drank wine and talked all day. I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not a sweet memory I’m remembering from my childhood—that happened _last week_. They both had a day off of work and thought, what the hell? Let’s build a fort,” I spluttered. “These idiots have two adult children and a country to run, but they still enjoy hanging out together so much that they built a _blanket fort_.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then, I looked directly at my parents and shook my head.

“How do you do that, Mom? Dad? How…how do you love like that?” I asked them seriously as if they were the only ones in the room. As if I _really_ needed them to tell me. I snapped out of it and turned my attention back to the crowd, the train accelerating with renewed fervor.

“So, people talk about soul mates, right? Are those real? If so, my parents are for sure soul mates. Or maybe they just got lucky… _wait_ that reminds me! Okay, this will be fun—everybody, raise your hand if your parents still have sex!” I flung my hand in the air and waved it erratically. “Mine do! Like… _regularly_.”

I felt a few strands of hair fall into my face and I raised my champagne flute to my lips again, forgetting that it was empty. My speech began making even _less_ sense as my thoughts got more and more off track, but it seemed that this train wasn’t going to stop until there was a crash.

“You all saw them dance earlier, imagine growing up witnessing that kind of love every day of your _life_. I grew up thinking that that kind of passion must be in store for me too, you know? But I guess love isn’t as inevitable as my parents made it look. Going back to soul mates for a tick-tock, if they’re real…I’m starting to suspect that not everyone gets one. Not everyone finds their blanket fort buddy, you know? The rest of us just get to meander around aimlessly until they find a person who isn’t necessarily funny or even interesting—but they’re _there_ —and then that’s their life now. That’s my life now. And that’s fine because it’s not like I’m going to have a magical romance like my parents do—I’m just _not_. So, what’s the point? What’s the _point_ —”

I stopped talking only upon registering that I wasn’t on stage anymore. Liir had wrapped his arm around my shoulders and was carefully guiding me off, taking care to make sure that I didn’t trip down the stairs of the platform.

“Happy anniversary!” I shouted over my shoulder, though I had no bearing on which direction my parents were sitting anymore.

The champagne train had at last derailed. And I was the wreck.

“Alright sesė, let’s get you some breathing room,” Liir told me. “Those drinks were pretty strong, huh?”

I mumbled something unintelligible that even I didn’t catch and we eventually found ourselves outside of a door that we kept locked during events. Liir snapped his fingers and the lock clicked open.

“Cool trick did Mom teach you that?” I muttered cynically, stumbling into the room.

“She did in fact, let’s take a seat, okay?” he said pacifyingly.

“You think you’re _so_ cool because you have Mom’s magic and I don’t. At least I can _dance_!” I emphasized with a dramatic flourish of my arms that caused me to lose my balance. I caught myself on the edge of a bed and finally sat down, frowning at my surroundings. We were in a guestroom on the first floor. “What are we doing here?”

“The living room is too crowded and your room is too far.”

It wasn’t long before I heard the door open and I watched in dismay as both of my parents stepped into the guestroom and discreetly closed the door behind them. Perfect. I groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the mattress, covering my face with my arms.

“Great! The whole _family_ is here to watch me melt down!” I declared dejectedly.

“Liir you can go find Trism, we’ve got it from here,” Mom said under her breath.

Within moments I was laying on my back upon the bed, my head gently placed in my mother’s lap. I could feel the satin of her skirts beneath my hair as she sat at the edge of the bed, her long emerald fingers beginning to soothingly stroke my curls.

“I’m drunk, Mom,” I informed her unhappily.

“I noticed, honey,” she responded simply.

“Well after a speech like that there’s no doubt she’s my kid, Fae,” Dad chuckled.

He dragged the armchair from the corner over towards the bed so he could sit closer. I felt him take my hand. Things were really hazy, like my vision and memory were fading in and out of focus.

“Did I ruin your anniversary?” I asked pitifully.

“You did not ruin our anniversary,” Dad’s assured me.

“No, Daddy. I ruined your anniversary. You should be having fun but instead you’re in here with me.”

“I can’t think of a more fitting way to commemorate our marriage than to take care of the daughter we got out of it,” Mom murmured with a hint of affectionate irony, continuing to stroke my hair.

“I don’t feel good, Mama,” I whined, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach. Dad quickly passed the waste bin to Mom who set it nearby just in case.

“It’s okay Poppy…you’re okay...”

“I’m _not_ okay—I’m stuck, Mama. I’m stuck,” I mourned, covering my face with my hands. “I’m a train wreck.”

“We love you, Poppy. Tell us what’s been going on and everything will be okay. Viskas bus gerai…” _(Everything will be fine…)_

“No, it won’t be. It’s not fair. Why does Liir have Trism and why do you two have each other when all I have is Royce?” I bemoaned.

“What was that about Royce?” Dad asked calmly, squeezing my hand encouragingly.

I sighed and uncovered my face to look at the ceiling. Everything was spinning as if the room was caught in a twister. I tried to collect my thoughts as they flew about in all directions, entangled in the chaotic crosswinds.

“I... I…” I stammered for a clock-tick before successfully seizing a thought. The image of my parents dancing. The way they looked at each other. The tale of their wedding day which I had been hearing about since I was a little girl.

“I would never ask Royce to elope…” I realized out loud. “I can’t picture us in twenty-five years. I can’t picture ruling with him, having little _Runcorn_ _Tigelaars_ with him. I can’t. I don’t—I don’t—”

“Say it, Poppy. You don’t _what_?” Mom prompted firmly.

“I don’t love him!” I professed vehemently, the confession spilling forth as if my sorceress mother had exorcised it right out of me. “There are days I’m not even sure that I _like_ him.”

I exhaled in liberation as the burdensome secret left my body. I had never said it out loud. I felt a small portion of the heaviness that had been weighing me down for months gradually begin to lift. It hadn’t completely vanished…but it was a start. Mom and Dad shared a meaningful look over me and Mom mouthed something to him that I didn’t catch.

There I lay, under their attentive care, relying on them as if I were a five-year-old in need of my parents. But…I _did_ need my parents. I needed my mom to stroke my hair. I needed my dad to hold my hand. I needed them both, maybe more than I ever had, to help me get back on track.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered.

“We’ll help you,” Dad asserted.

“I said yes,” I reminded him, weakly holding my left hand aloft. “It’s too late.”

“It’s not too late, Poppy girl,” he promised, pressing a quick kiss to my hand.

My vision began to darken around the edges. Mom murmured something to me…but she sounded far away. I blacked out after that.

They must have helped me to my room and Mom must have helped me dress for bed. I woke up to a full glass of water and a large aspirin waiting for me on my bedside table. I felt rotten.

Scattered moments of the night began filtering back into my mind and I tried to make sense of them. I recalled copious amounts of champagne; in fact, I could still taste it in my dry mouth. I remembered snippets of a humiliating speech. I remembered ending up in a guestroom spilling my absolute heart out to my parents. And, surprisingly, I remembered the last thing my mother told me before my memory went dark.

“Oh, Poppy…if you listen to nothing else that we tell you, listen to this. Do not marry somebody that you do not love.”


	9. A Winter Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Unhappy romantic relationship

◈ **Chapter 9: A Winter Wedding** ◈

Following the anniversary party, I did everything I could to go into hiding. Certain that rumors about me must be rampant, I barely left the castle out of fear of being questioned by witnesses of my speech, or worse, journalists. However, staying inside presented its own trials as I constantly dodged staff members, Runcorns, and my own parents. The only good thing about Liir and Trism returning to The Emerald City was that I had two less people to avoid.

I had yet to follow up with my parents about my meltdown in the guestroom. I was uncertain on how to address everything that I had spilled out to them, so I made sure that I was never in the same room as either of them long enough for more than small talk. I could hardly look them in the eye.

By some miracle, Royce had not been present for my toast and remained blissfully unaware of its implications. He had stepped out of the ballroom with his mother at the time to go walk her dog. He actually apologized to me for missing it and went on to tease me about how he had ‘heard through the vine that I had been a tipsy girl that night’. Which was one way to put it.

Mrs. Runcorn proved to be the trickiest to escape. One afternoon later that January, she cornered me in the library where I had been hiding out to get some work done.

“Štai kur tu, dukra princesė! Taip sunku susekti tave! Pakalbėkime pyrago dizainą,” she launched into planning immediately, shifting my papers aside to make room for her wedding binder as her whining dog wrestled in her arms. _(That’s where you are, daughter princess! It's so hard to track you down! Let’s talk cake design.)_

“Ar galvojote apie datą?” she tacked on. _(Have you thought about the date?)_

The date. _The date._ Setting a _date_. All of the Runcorns, Royce included, were obsessed with setting a date. I had managed to put off setting one thus far, but I was beginning to run out of excuses. I opened my mouth and stammered dumbly, wracking my brain for ways that I could buy more time, before Timberly pointed out that I was not wearing my brooch.

“Tikriausiai palikau sagę savo kambaryje!” I exclaimed, sensing my opportunity to flee. “Eisiu ieškoti!” _(I must have left it in my bedroom! I’m going to look!)_

I made a beeline for the exit and set off down the hall, unsure of where I was heading as long as it was away from her. As I cut through the foyer, I spotted the mail stack on an end table and picked it up.

“Kur nuotaka?” Mrs. Runcorn’s voice called from down the hall. _(Where is the bride?)_

Thinking fast, I ducked into a broom closet off to the side of the foyer. Figuring I had time to kill before it was safe to emerge, I pulled down on the string hanging from the single dim light bulb so I could have some light to sift through the mail. As I did so, I noticed a postcard addressed to me.

_To Miss Poppy Tigelaar—_

_I’m coming into Vilnius for Dad’s wedding. Would you like to attend? I understand if you’re too busy, but it will be a lot more fun if you’re there. No need to RSVP, just come as you are if you can make it._

_Zyaire Andris_

I felt excitement bubble from within me. I had almost forgotten that Zyaire was expected back in town, and for such a happy occasion! The address and the date were on the back of the postcard and I decided then and there to go. It was just the distraction I needed.

The afternoon of the wedding, I dressed in a simple long-sleeved navy-blue dress with a tiny, scattered pink and white floral pattern. I also put together a very nice card for Ike and his bride which included a generous monetary gift. Before I left, I ducked my head into Dad’s office where he and Mom were both looking something over for work. Their heads were resting against each other’s as they scanned a document together.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m going to a wedding this afternoon. My friend Zyaire’s Dad is getting married.”

Mom looked up with a shocked expression. “Isn’t that your friend from when you were a teenager? The one who moved away?”

“Yes, he’s back in town for the wedding.”

“The one that you—”

“Bye, Mama!” I said quickly before making my departure. It wasn’t my most graceful escape to date, but it would do.

By the time I arrived at the venue, my nose was freezing and my face was red from the low temperatures. There was a wedding arch set up, and maybe twenty to thirty chairs positioned in front of it. The decorations were sparse, but the hall was warm and inviting. I stepped over to a nearby coat table and had begun unbuttoning my winter coat when a gust of cold wind blew in behind me which told me that someone had entered the hall from outside.

“You came!”

I turned immediately to see Zyaire standing in the doorway, looking cold but happy, holding a huge bouquet of vibrant wildflowers.

“Well, I never thought I’d live to see the day that Zyaire Andris returned to Vilnius!” I announced joyously.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it! The important Karalienė Laukia at our humble event _?_ ” he remarked, referencing my title in Vinkun with a sarcastic bow. _(Queen in Waiting)._

“You’ve learned what you should call me, I see. You even _almost_ pronounced it correctly,” I flashed him a devious smile.

Terribly giddy to see each other again, we then pulled each other into a warm hug which was a welcome relief from the bitter January air that lingered near the entrance where we stood. Zyaire Andris was back in Vilnius…at long last.

“Welcome back, friend…” I murmured as we embraced.

“It’s good to be back…”

“Those for me?” I jested upon pulling away, pointing to the flowers in his hand.

“Huh? Oh, no! I was sent on an errand for the bride—” he explained hurriedly.

“I was just kidding!” I assured him quickly. “They’re beautiful.”

“You know, I actually got them from Rozalija. Get this, she actually _remembered_ me. Can you believe that?” he asked incredulously. Somehow, I could believe it.

“Well, she’s truly the best in town. You can’t get flowers that beautiful from anyone else at this time of year,” I commented as I stripped off my gloves to put them in my coat pocket.

It was sudden, so sudden that I almost missed it, but Zyaire’s smile instantaneously evaporated and his eyes betrayed an expression of gut-wrenching hurt. He looked as if all of the wind had been knocked out of him. It took me a moment to register that the change had occurred when his eyes landed on left hand…my gloves had previously been concealing the engagement ring still very much wrapped around my finger. He turned his head away for a moment and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So, is uh…is Royce coming along? Or…” he mumbled uncertainly.

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Just me today. Flying solo.”

In fact, I hadn’t even told Royce that I was coming. I didn’t want to risk him inviting himself along as he had a talent for doing. I cleared my throat as well and shrugged off my coat, setting it on the table to my right. Zyaire seemed to be deep in thought as he contemplated all of this information, his eyes glancing between me and the bouquet in his hand.

“You know what?” he said. He pulled a single poppy out of the wildflower bouquet and handed it to me.

“Katarzyna won’t notice. A poppy for Poppy…remember?” he asked, quoting what Rozalija had said years ago. I blushed faintly as I accepted the flower, oddly moved by the thoughtfulness of the simple gesture.

“Ačiū…I won’t tell the bride,” I assured him, crossing my heart. _(Thank you)_

“Well, I’ve got to make a floral delivery. Go ahead and take a seat anywhere, we’re not fancy here like you castle snobs!” he mocked playfully, already backing up and heading away to drop off the flowers.

I watched him go before claiming a seat in the back row, eyes glued to the red flower in my hand. I took a deep breath and shook my head, as if that would do anything to stop my heart from racing. Cut that out.

The ceremony was simple and beautiful. I couldn’t help but grin when I saw the look on Ike’s face as his bride came into view, and I felt a wave of appreciation for the man standing at the altar. A dutiful shop owner, a supportive grandson, and a caring father to a son he barely got to see. The man who had rushed to the castle gates, an endeavor that surely required much courage, to give the princess a chance to bid farewell to her best friend. He deserved all of the happiness that I was sure he was feeling today.

But it wasn’t Ike, nor his lovely bride, that my eyes were drawn to. It was Zyaire, hands clasped in front of him, standing proudly at his father’s side. He wore a handsome gray suit without a stitch of green on it, and his eyes shone with clear joy from behind his glasses. Privately, though it may have been improper to do so, I marveled at how much he had grown up. No longer a slender teenager, there stood a mature, poised, unbelievably handsome _man_. He looked…Vinkun.

I hadn’t realized that I had been staring, that is, not until I caught him staring too. It was fleeting, but from across the room, his eyes had assuredly shifted to meet mine for a single, heart-stopping moment. His gaze then swiftly darted away, as if realizing he had been caught in the act…though I supposed that meant I had been caught too.

But then…his eyes shifted towards me a second time. The first glance could have been explained away as a coincidence, but this time? I was certain of its intentionality. His eyes had unquestionably locked with mine, gently…yet deliberately.

And I did not look away.

The bride and groom, the guests, even the event hall itself slowly dissolved into the background, thus creating a dreamlike universe in which only Zyaire and I existed. The two of us remained in this soundless yet profound trance as the couple exchanged their vows, and the spell that had captured us began to divulge our long-held secrets. It expressed that unspoken thing that had always been between us louder than words ever could. It revealed to us, without any room for doubt, something we had only ever suspected. That all of those unsaid things we had felt for years…were felt by the other too.

What this realization meant for us…I wasn’t sure.

In a jarring flash, the ceremony was over, and the world rushed back to life at twice the speed to make up for the time Zyaire and I lost while stuck in each other’s gaze. I stood along with the rest of the crowd and cheered as the bride and groom kissed, feeling peculiarly dazed as if I had been prematurely jostled awake from an unrestful nap.

Recalibrating to reality, I took in my surroundings as strangers greeted each other and socialized. Zyaire was ushered over to take pictures with the newlyweds and someone who I assumed to be the bride’s adult daughter. Then, seated up in the front row, I finally spotted somebody I recognized. I gasped in delight and eagerly approached Great Grandmother Alusia, tapping the dear woman on her shoulder to gain her attention.

“Ar prisimenate mane?” I asked with an excited smile, taking the empty seat beside her. _(Do you remember me?)_

She gasped and clutched at her heart as she saw me.

“Ah! Princese Poppy! O gal turėčiau pasakyti, kad karalienė laukia? O, mano brangusis, kaip gera iš tavęs prisijungti. Kokia garbė,” she exclaimed graciously. _(Ah! Princess Poppy! Or should I say the Queen in Waiting? Oh, my dear, how good of you to join us. What an honor.)_

“Ne ponia Alusia, jūs mane gerai pažįstate, kad galėčiau paleisti tokį bėgimą. Negalėjau to praleisti. Pasiilgau jūsų visų,” I admonished her fondly. _(Now Madame Alusia, you know me too well to make such a fuss. I wouldn’t have missed it. I have missed you all.)_

“Mes taip pat pasiilgome tavęs,” she assured me, taking my hand and patting it affectionately. _(We have missed you too.)_

She and I didn’t waste any time to catch up with each other enthusiastically. She told me that she had been watching my career closely and that she couldn’t have been happier to hear the announcement that I was to be queen. She told me she never thought she’d live to see a daughter born to the Tigelaar family tree, let alone one who’d go on to take the throne. Interestingly…she did not mention a word about my engagement to Royce though it was common knowledge across Vilnius, even to people who did not follow the news of the royal family as closely as she did.

Having been so engrossed in our reunion, I barely realized that music and dancing had begun in the hall until I was tapped on the shoulder.

“Can I steal her, Great Grandmother?” Zyaire requested politely.

“Ask her in Vinkun,” Great Grandmother Alusia said in her thick accent, wagging a finger at him.

I sat up straighter and shot him an expectant smirk, ready to hear that hesitant and panicked Vinkun that I had come to associate with him. But…he was not panicked, nor was he hesitant. He confidently offered his hand out to me and spoke clearly in near flawless Vinkun…

“Ar galėčiau turėti šį šokį?” _(Could I have this dance?)_

My eager smirk slowly melted off of my face. Heat rose to my cheeks as I, rendered speechless in both languages for once in my life, nodded faintly and accepted his hand. Zyaire led me to the dance floor where a song with a sweeping melody was playing. He tenderly moved to take my waist, but before he did so, his eyes checked in with me, silently requesting permission. I nodded and felt a shiver run up my spine as he, having received my consent, placed his hand on my waist and began leading me in a dance. 

Zyaire Andris continued to surprise me for he was _far_ from a terrible dancer. Perhaps not the most skilled when compared up against the regular ball attendees we hosted at the castle, but certainly better than one might expect to look at him.

“So…you’ve been practicing,” I observed breathlessly.

“Well, my ex made me take dance lessons,” he explained casually.

“Not the dancing,” I said as he spun me out. “Your _Vinkun_ ,” I clarified upon being spun back in.

“Oh…well, I try to study when I can. Certain phrases,” he admitted.

“So, that phrase comes up a lot, does it? Ask a lot of Vinkun girls to dance, do you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No…just one.”

Our eyes met and I swore that I felt his hold on my waist get almost imperceptibly tighter. Then, in a clumsy moment, he lightly stepped on my foot, thus breaking our stupor.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly, but I just burst out laughing and shook my head.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Maybe I should lead?” I teased playfully. 

“Well, that’s what you do best after all, _your majesty_ ,” he bantered.

“That’s right, I am the great and powerful Queen in Waiting! I could easily send you away from this country if I wanted to. That is…if my parents said it was okay,” I amended with a faint chuckle.

The song ended and, in its place, began a new one. A soft, very slow piece with a heartbreakingly romantic quality to it. We remained in our dance position from the previous song, unmoving, as if our feet were fastened to the ground.

“And would you? Send me away?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

We both held our breath as the tension between us grew, sinking deeper into each other eyes. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Zyaire and I simultaneously laced our fingers together.

“No…I wouldn’t…” I promised, my strained tone betraying the longing that I felt for him.

It was getting less and less easy to pretend that all I was doing was dancing with a friend. Not when that friend was looking at me the way that he was. Not with the way that I was looking at him. I was fooling myself if I claimed that this didn’t mean anything. That _he_ didn’t mean anything.

Cut that out.

I released my hold on Zyaire as if I had been electrocuted, smoothing out my skirt apprehensively as my eyes darted for the exit.

“Um…I think I need to leave now,” I said hurriedly, giving him an apologetic look.

“So soon? The ceremony only just ended…” Zyaire said, looking confused and a little hurt.

“I know but…I came, I saw, I danced. I’ve got to be somewhere,” I lied, making a break for the coat table.

“Poppy wait, did I do something wrong? Don’t leave,” he implored. I pulled the card for Ike out of my coat pocket and turned to hand it to Zyaire, not acknowledging his appeal for me to stay.

“For your dad, tell him it’s a thank you for letting me disrupt his shop for an entire summer.”

I threw on my coat and walked straight out of the door before so much as putting on my gloves. It was already dusk as I stepped into the frigid air, the sun went away so early this time of year. As I headed towards the direction of the castle, I heard footsteps stamp behind me.

“I’ll be staying in the apartment above the repair shop,” Zyaire’s voice called to me. I turned to see him standing outside the hall without a coat on.

“Thank you for inviting me. I—” I faltered for a moment. “Have a safe trip back, okay?”

I turned away and started walking. Just as it had felt the last time that he was leaving Vilnius, it seemed better to say nothing than to say it all. And there was so much to say.

“During the ceremony…” he suddenly called to me. I froze in my tracks and turned around to face him with wide eyes. He was visibly shivering from the cold. “There was a moment. Poppy…tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

I looked down at the ground. I felt it too. Of course, I felt it too. But I could not say so. I could not say so while absurdly conscious of the shackle that lived on my finger. I could not say so while I remained in this trap of my own making. I could not say so for fear that if I said it, I’d never be able to stop saying it.

“Zyaire…I can’t…” I said in a pleading voice as my fingers, stiff from the chill, moved to fidget with my ring.

“Poppy…why are you marrying him?”

A crushing silence fell between us as the question, no longer unspoken, hovered heavily in the space between us. Why was I marrying him? I shrugged desperately and swallowed the lump growing in my throat. 

“Because…he makes sense.”

Then, I ran.

I escaped the scene just as I had been escaping people around the castle all week. Ducking into broom closets to avoid Mrs. Runcorn, darting away midsentence to evade my mother’s questions, and leaving my best friend out in the cold rather than confront my true feelings for him.


	10. The Worst Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Description of drowning // Forced kiss // Derogatory language // Unhappy romantic relationship

◈ **Chapter 10: The Worst Part** ◈

I dreamed that I was on the banks of Vinkus River at night, staring straight ahead as I waded out into the water. On my right hand, I felt the sensation of a pinky finger brushing against mine. On my left, I felt the cool metal of my engagement ring. Suddenly, the ring started to grow heavier and heavier at an alarming pace until I was no longer able to physically lift my hand and it sunk below the surface with a sickening _splash_. Flooding with terror, I realized that the weight of the ring was beginning to pull me down, and I began thrashing and struggling to stay afloat. My head was barely above water now as my ring attempted to drag me towards the bottom of the river. I thrust my right arm into the air to grasp wildly for help. I felt the phantom pinky finger link with mine, as if trying to pull me out, but my grip slipped and I shrieked as a final jerk pulled me under, the water engulfing me entirely.

I sat up in bed with a choking gasp, my hand flying to my chest in alarm. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair and took slow, deep breaths to calm myself. I was still in the clothes I wore to the wedding. My bedside clock read that it was eleven at night. I concluded that I must have fallen asleep upon returning home.

_Poppy…why are you marrying him?_

Why was I marrying him?

Royce had never made me feel enchanted, nor even particularly happy…but his trademark predictability meant I always knew what to expect from him. Royce, whose proclivity towards being a gentleman seemed at times to be his only personality trait, offered me a sense of security. Simply put, he made me feel safe. After learning a group of boys had been using my heart as entertainment, after someone I liked and trusted cruelly crossed a boundary I set, after an adult man used his power to violate and threaten me…safe felt like an okay place to be.

But was it fair to Royce for me to stay with him just because I feared the unknown? Was it fair to _me_? I had thought that over time I would learn to be satisfied with comfort and safety alone. After all of this time, did I now dare to hope for something more?

I was at a crossroads. One path was undeniably easier…but would end in almost certain monotony. The other path required a fearsome leap of faith and there was no guarantee how it would end. I was certain I would not be able to get back to sleep with this decision hanging over me. If only I had not been so shaken by that dream…

The urge came to me quickly, and before I could overthink it, I stood out of bed to hurry out of my room and down the hall. It had been nearly sixteen years since I made my last trip like this, but there had only ever been two people who could comfort me after a nightmare. Now, as a grown woman, I found myself knocking at their door once more.

“It’s me,” I announced my presence.

“Come in.”

Mom’s bedside lamp cast a dim glow over my parent’s bedroom. I found them thankfully still awake, Mom holding a book in her lap with her reading glasses poised on her nose, and Dad cuddled into her side. He sat up when I entered and Mom set her book aside at once.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked in concern, her eyes scanning me for signs of injury.

“No. I had a bad dream,” I confessed. “Can I…come join you two?”

My parents shared a look with each other, clearly surprised, but also a little amused. I half expected them to send me away, but instead, they wordlessly made room for me to join them. I didn’t hesitate. I climbed over to take my place in between them, just as I had when I was a little girl and would huddle under their covers, frightened by whatever monster had paid me a visit that night.

“What’s scaring you, sweetheart?” Dad asked as the three of us settled in against their headboard.

I looked down at my hands in my lap, fingers moving to twist at my ring. I paused for a long moment, having a difficult time saying it out loud, but knowing that I must.

“I have to leave Royce,” I revealed quietly. There was a brief, heavy silence. Then…

“Pay up, Fiyero!” Mom blurted out victoriously.

“No way! I said by the end of the month!” he protested.

“Yes, but _I_ said by the end of the week! It’s eleven-thirty on Saturday. I win just in time,” Mom gloated.

I stared between them with a quizzical look. “Were you…were you taking bets on my love life?” I asked, slightly offended.

“We’re just happy you finally admitted it,” Dad sighed, appearing a little put out that he had lost their apparent wager.

“ _Please_ let me be the one to tell Timberly,” Mom enthused with a scheming smirk. “Oz, I can’t wait to be rid of that dog—”

“As happy as I am to see my failed engagement bringing you two such joy, I’m kind of going through something right now!” I reminded them exasperatedly. “A little _sympathy_ might be nice?”

They softened a bit and exchanged another look before Mom wrapped an arm around my shoulder supportively.

“It just never felt right…did it?” she asked knowingly.

“No…it didn’t. I don’t know why. He’s plenty sweet and everyone thinks we’re perfect together,” I sighed. “We make so much _sense.”_

“Love doesn’t make sense, Poppy. You know whose relationship has never made a bit of sense? Your father and I,” Mom confided.

“That’s for sure!” Dad gave a quick laugh. Mom rolled her eyes at his reaction before turning her attention back to me.

“Forget the fact that the entire student body of Shiz couldn’t believe that the handsome, _scandalacious_ prince was going out with the...what did they call me again? The angry artichoke? When I was introduced to The Vinkus as his pick for queen, people thought I was about the strangest choice in all of Oz,” she recollected.

“Yeah, the Council _really_ wasn’t on board at first,” Dad chipped in. “They actually tried to set me up with a more suitable woman when Elphaba and I announced our engagement.”

“What?!” I blurted out.

“Thank you, Yero, for reminding me of that. I’ve only spent a quarter of my life trying to forget that fiasco,” Mom sighed. “It’s true though. I was from Munchkinland, didn’t speak Vinkun, and hated dressing up. For Ozsakes honey, I’m _green_. I was not cut out for castle life at all, and the newspapers had no problem saying so. We didn’t make sense…but it didn’t matter.”

Dad nodded seriously, as if deep in thought, which was unusual for him.

“Poppy…don’t think about what makes sense for The Vinkus when you’re choosing something as important as who to spend your life with. The job you’ve agreed to take on is going to require a lot of sacrifice, don’t let it take that from you too. Find someone who makes you happy and then never stop shoving your relationship in everyone’s face,” Dad encouraged.

I smiled a bit at his choice of words and tucked them away in my heart. “Thanks, Dad.”

“And next time, _please_ choose someone more interesting than Royce? He’s like talking to a pile of yellow bricks—” he continued.

“ _Yero_!”

“What, Elphaba? I’m just repeating what you said earlier!” he defended himself.

 _Royce_. I groaned miserably and sunk lower against the headboard, feeling the urge to hide under the covers for a while. Maybe forever. 

“Every time I think about telling him I get this horrendible knot in my stomach. What are people going to say?” I fretted anxiously.

My parents shared a glance before they each moved to take one of my hands in theirs.

“Well…they’ll say all sorts of things. Journalists will try to interview you; they’ll get to Royce too. There will be rumors, assumptions, and you’re probably going to get some negative attention. Just like when your brother abdicated the throne, remember?” Mom said realistically. She was never one to sugar coat things.

“But then, in a few weeks, they’ll all get bored and it’ll go away like clockwork! Kid, let’s just say that your old Dad is no stranger to a scandal—” Dad began.

“You can say _that_ again…” Mom interjected dryly. Dad shot her a quick look before continuing.

“As I was _saying_ …all of this just comes with the Tigelaar territory,” Dad pointed out. “Just know we’ll be here for you until it is through. Your parents have got your back.”

“Always,” Mom agreed softly, reaching over to brush a flyaway curl out of my face with her free hand.

I looked down at my left hand and noticed, with surprise, that the ring appeared…different. It did not glare as harshly, it did not weigh as heavy, and upon seeing my mother’s emerald fingers reassuringly laced with mine, it didn’t seem as…scary. Just like when I had been a child and my parents would shine a light into my closet to show that the source of my terror had been a coat rather than a beast, I felt a sense of relief, even slight embarrassment, that I had ever looked upon the trinket with such dread. I could now see it for what it was. Not a life sentence, nor an anchor that’d drag me to the bottom of the Vinkus River…a ring. Just a ring.

“I guess I’m really doing this,” I murmured.

I squeezed both of their hands before releasing my hold on them, having gained the courage I needed to pursue my chosen path. I placed a thankful kiss on both of their cheeks and began to climb out of their bed.

“What? You don’t want to have a slumber party with your old Mom and Dad?” Dad complained. 

I turned in the doorway and looked back to my parents thoughtfully, laughing faintly as I shook my head. I briefly allowed myself to wonder where I would be, _who_ I would be, without them. Without my carefree, goofy, protective father. Without my headstrong, intelligent, supportive mother. They loved Liir and me fiercely…and we loved them the same. 

“No…you’ve given me everything I need.”

◈◈◈

The very next day, I told Royce that I was leaving him.

He did not take it well.

I had asked him to join me in the living room of the castle so we could talk privately. I delicately explained that while it was nothing that he had done, things just didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t fair to either of us to prolong our relationship. At first, he laughed heartily and congratulated me on a funny, if not morbid, prank. The look that crossed his face as the reality of the matter finally dawned on him was one that I would not soon forget.

Then began his rather frenzied journey through the different stages of grief, well…maybe all except acceptance. He insisted that this wasn’t actually happening. He argued with me about how he was supposed to tell everyone. He promised me that we could ‘grow into it’. At one point he even drooped his head in my lap in a despondiary state and wound his arms around my waist.

However, it was when I slid the engagement ring off of my finger and gently placed it into the palm of his hand that something in him seemed to…shift. His face went expressionless as he stared at the ring, as if only then comprehending that he hadn’t gotten his way.

He then rushed out of the living room and down the hall towards the dining room where both sets of our parents were conversing. My parents had known that I was ending things with him today, and Mom had tactfully agreed to not tell Timberly until I told Royce. However, Royce ended up being the one to blindside his parents with the news the moment he tore into the dining room.

“Well, the wedding is off, apparently!” he announced in a piercing tone.

I followed in behind him, requesting that he calm down, and got there just in time to see Reynold and Timberly burst from their chairs in shock. I hardly had time to blink before an unhinged Mrs. Runcorn viciously charged at me to scream right in my face.

“Ką tu padarei!? Eik ir sulaužyk mano sūnaus širdį!? Tu viską sugadinai!” she ranted maniacally. _(What did you do!? Go and break my son's heart!? You ruined everything!)_

“Now you wait just a clock-tick—” I blurted out defensively.

“You little _hussy_!” she hissed wrathfully.

All hell broke loose in the dining room at her words as Mom and Dad scrambled to defend me, both visibly enraged at what she had insinuated.

“How dare you call our daughter a hussy! How _dare_ you!? Bjaurūs oportunistai!” Dad hollered, fuming so much that a vein popped out beneath the diamond tattoo on his temple. _(Nasty opportunists!)_

“Palikite pilį dabar!” Mom warned in a voice that could strike fear in the heart of even the bravest Ozian. Mom only yelled in Vinkun when she was very, _very_ angry. _(Leave the castle now!)_

“You don’t _scare_ me,” Timberly claimed, recklessly advancing towards Mom. However, when toe to toe with my imposing mother who stood nearly a foot taller, she appeared less sure of her own assertion.

“So, you won’t take a warning, eh? All the worse for you. I’ll take care of you now instead of later,” Mom threatened darkly. I swore I could even see the teacups on the table rattle on their own accord, an unusual side effect of Mom’s temper. “BOO!”

“AH!” Timberly yelped in fear. The Runcorn clan hurriedly began making their way out of the room.

“I want my brooch back!” Mrs. Runcorn shrieked over her shoulder as she and Mr. Runcorn passed through the double doors.

“You can have your hideoteous brooch back!” Mom yelled after her, looking as if she wanted to chase them right out of the castle herself. “If you ever step foot in this castle again, I’ll _get_ you—and your little _dog_ too!”

I noticed Royce hang back rather than exit with his family, but nothing could have prepared me for what he did next. Before I had time to register what was happening, he grabbed my waist, rooted his fingers into my sides so deeply that I feared they’d leave a scratch, and crashed his lips to mine in a hard, sudden kiss. As I struggled to pull away from him, I wondered if he was delusional enough to think that this last-ditch effort might change my mind, or if he was simply feeling powerless and wanted to have control over me one last time. I finally thrust my hands against his chest hard enough for him to release me and I pointed a strong finger towards the door.

“GET OUT!” I roared fiercely. “IŠEIK!”

Royce Runcorn then strode out of the room and out of my life without a word, leaving me to wonder if his decency had ever been more than a chivalrous charade. After all…roses had thorns.

I stood there in shocked silence, visibly trembling as Royce’s sickeningly-sweet aroma dissipated from the room, until I felt the shelter of my parent’s arms wrap around me. They were there holding me, as promised.

“You did it. It’s over. The worst part is over…” Dad muttered, kissing the top of my head as they both held me securely in their embrace.

My parents cleared the rest of their afternoon and evening to spend time with me. Though nothing about this afternoon had been funny in the moment, we deliberately began joking about it, snickering at the expense of the Runcorns to cope with the traumatic ordeal. Mom and Dad swapped horror stories about Timberly and Reynold, devilishly delighted to finally break their silence, and Mom even did an uncanny impression of Mrs. Runcorn screaming about her brooch. I may have felt remorse for our mirth had it not been for Mrs. Runcorn’s sentiments and Royce’s aggressive parting kiss. After dinner, Mom dismissed the staff for the night, made me a warm mug of tea, and the three of us retired to our living room. Over a card game and a shared bowl of lemon drops, the troubles I had accumulated over my years with Royce gradually began melting away…

The worst part was over.

In time, the journalists would discover that there’d be no royal wedding. There would be a media blitz and gossip galore…but I had done it. I had ended it. My eyes glanced down at my left hand and I flexed my fingers, admiring the look of my empty hand. I felt lighter, as if the anchor had released its grip for good. I smiled as a lightheartedness began to fill my chest like a breath of cleansing, fresh air. I felt freer than I had in months…maybe years. 

Then it set in…truly set in.

I wasn’t marrying Royce. I was uncommitted. I was _free_.

“I’m not getting married,” I blurted out suddenly, dropping the cards I was holding.

“Well…yes we know…” Dad said slowly, giving me a funny look.

But there was someone who didn’t know.

I had originally believed that by staying with Royce, if nothing else, my days of fear would be behind me. But I had been afraid all the same. Afraid that my fear was preventing me from experiencing something real. Afraid that if I stayed with him, I’d be limited. Afraid that I’d never feel that _something_.

But I had.

_Poppy…tell me you didn’t feel it too._

I felt it when a pinky finger brushed against mine on a river bank, and again during my very first kiss. I felt it when I heard a familiar voice from behind a bookcase. I felt it in a breathless moment during a wedding ceremony. I felt it while dancing. I had felt that something all along.

I felt it with Zyaire.

I had rationalized the feelings I experienced that summer as nothing more than the heightened excitement of a first romance. I had been an overdramatic fifteen-year-old with a crush on a boy who moved away, and that was that. But now? I was a woman, an adult, a queen to be…yet here I sat, thinking of him still.

“I have to go somewhere! I have to…talk to somebody,” I said at once, scrambling to my feet. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Poppy, what in Oz?” Mom said in confusion.

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy. I love you both,” I said, kissing them both on the cheek before hurrying out of the room.

“I hate it when she does that,” I heard Dad mutter to Mom as I exited.

I threw on my shoes and my coat and immediately departed the castle. It was a bitterly cold night, but I didn’t care. My legs worked on auto-pilot, carrying me onward towards my destination. A familiar destination that I had been away from for far too long. A place that had felt like a second home to me for one beautiful summer. A place with dusty windows, loose broom bristles, and old receipt paper. And also, I dared to hope, a very special person waiting for me inside.

My breath was visible as I stood outside of the storefront and short puffs of vapor fogged the glass as I peered through its door. The lights were turned out in the store, it being well after they would have closed, but a warm light spilled down the crooked stairs that led to the apartment above.

In the spirit of the new weightlessness I had recently earned, I gathered my courage, closed my eyes, and rapped loudly on the door of the Andris Repair Shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you notice? (fun fact): Almost all of the adjectives and details surrounding Royce are words that can be used to describe either a rose or the thorns. Additionally, he never once calls Poppy by her name.


	11. Something Between Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Sex

◈ **Chapter 11: Something Between Us** ◈

I shivered in the cold as I watched Zyaire cautiously come down the crooked staircase and flip on the light. He froze as he spotted me through the glass door and, for a horrible, gut-wrenching clock-tick, I expected him to turn and head back up the stairs. I wasn’t exactly sure where we had left things…where _I_ had left things…the last time we spoke. However, after his stunned pause, he strode over to unlock the door and quickly usher me inside.

“Poppy, it’s freezing out there. What in Oz are you doing here?” he asked in a bewildered tone. He was clearly dressed for bed, wearing a cozy pair of pajama pants and an unbuttoned mismatched flannel thrown over an undershirt.

“Thank Oz you’re still here, I wasn’t sure when you were going back to The Emerald City,” I exhaled, stripping off my gloves and shoving them into my coat pockets as I stepped further into the warmth of the building.

The scent of the shop hit me like a huge wave, triggering the memories I had of that summer to flood back all at once. It was as if a time-capsule had preserved this place exactly as I had remembered it. Not a dust speck had changed. Zyaire and I seemed to be the only things that had been touched at all by time.

“Well, actually—” he started to say, but I cut him off in order to keep my nerve up.

“Zyaire, I have something to tell you…” I said with a breathless determination as I turned to face him.

“I actually have something to tell you too…” he replied, advancing a few steps towards me.

“I’m moving to Vilnius.”

“I broke off my engagement with Royce.”

We had both shared our news at the precise same moment, which caught us both off-guard. We paused for an instant before speaking over each other once more—

“You broke off your engagement?”

“You’re moving to Vilnius?”

We stared at each other with an astonished expression as we soaked in the information and pieced together what it meant. What it meant for _us_.

“You are?” I asked in a hushed tone, unable to tear my eyes away from his. He just nodded; his lips slightly parted.

“You did?” he questioned softly in turn. I nodded and slowly held up my ungloved hand which now bore no ring.

Silence rang again and we wordlessly took another step towards each other, our hands moving slightly as if they wanted to reach for one another but were being held back by an unseen force.

“Zyaire…” I whispered hoarsely, feeling my heart positively thunder in my chest in a way that it never had before. “Can I kiss you?”

He didn’t answer right away, and my heart halted its thundering to plummet in panic. Had I misread things? Was I mistaken?

“I’m sorry—” I apologized at once, feeling my face redden violently. “I felt like…I still felt like…I thought there was something between us—”

Then he kissed me. His warm hands captured the sides of my chilled face and he pressed his lips to mine thoroughly and ardently, a far cry from the innocent goodbye kiss we had shared as teenagers. After a long, long moment, we reluctantly drew apart for breath, and the look in his eyes expressed all I’d ever need to know about how he felt about me.

“There was something…there is…there always was…” he breathed, his thumbs gently stroking my flushed cheeks.

I said nothing. Having gained all of the courage and permission I needed; I simply pressed my lips back to his in a frantic kiss born out of years of desperate longing. He buried his fingers into my windswept curls and passionately returned my affections with the same, indescribable urgency. I knew that we were both thinking the same thing. We had waited years for each other…we weren’t about to waste another moment.

His kiss was sentimental. His kiss was nostalgic. In the dead of winter on a freezing night…his kiss felt like summer.

Something about this moment felt so utterly inevitable that it now seemed ridiculous that I had ever worried at all. It was always supposed to be here, it was always supposed to be now, it was always supposed to be _us_. Our story had never been that of two histrionic teenagers sharing a soon forgotten summer romance. It had always been, and still was, authentic. It was rare. It was _special_.

He clutched at my waist to pull me flush against him and I tightly wound my arms around his neck. Our embrace soon devolved into hurried, frenzied, short kisses as if we just couldn’t manage to get our fill of each other after so much lost time. In a moment of romantic clumsiness, we both stumbled backwards and my back made contact with the counter. As my hand reached out to steady myself, I accidentally knocked over a file filled with receipts and sent them scattering to the floor.

Zyaire and I then, unable to help ourselves, clung to one another tightly as we burst out laughing over the amorous calamity.

“We’re the most destructive thing to ever happen to this shop,” I declared breathily between laughs. 

“Well, we might as well lean into it,” he decided boldly, sweeping an arm over the countertop to knock off the remaining receipts. Then, in a surprisingly effortless maneuver, he lifted me up and placed me onto the very counter that I so often used to perch. Emboldened by my new vantage point, I leaned down to caress the sides of his face and pulled him into a slow, stirring kiss.

“Negaliu patikėti kad tai vyksta…” I murmured in a throaty whisper upon pulling away. _(I can’t believe this is happening.)_

“Oz Poppy, I have no idea what you just said but that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” Zyaire confessed, staring up at me with an enthralled expression.

“I’ll remember that,” I muttered flirtatiously, tracing my index finger along his jawline.

His hands drifted from the sides of my face down my shoulders and arms to rest on my hips. I made a small sound as I shivered at this touch, a trail of goosebumps emerging where his fingers had glided. Our eyes met in an intense gaze and I unconsciously fidgeted in my seat as my body awoke, a new unspoken thing between us all but screaming now.

“Come here…” he muttered hastily, indulging in yet another kiss. Lips still pressed to mine, Zyaire hoisted me off of the counter and into his arms with astounding ease, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around hips to hold steady. He broke away for just a moment and his eyes met mine intently.

“Is this okay?” he asked gently.

“ _Yes_ ,” I whispered back eagerly.

He held me securely as he carried me up the crooked staircase and into the tiny, empty apartment that resided above the shop. The bedroom had faded wallpaper and on a heavily slanted low ceiling was a large skylight overlooking Vilnius that hovered over an unmade bed. Zyaire gingerly set me onto my feet and we shared a meaningful look. Neither of us said anything, but instead moved to take each other’s hands and rest our foreheads together.

“I’m nervous…” I confessed in a whisper.

“We can stop, we don’t have to—” he assured me at once, but I gently pressed my fingers to his lips to stop him from speaking.

“No, Zyaire. I want this. You can’t know how much. I’m just nervous because…it’s you,” I explained softly.

“I’m nervous too,” he revealed quietly. He carefully took my hand and placed it over his chest. I could feel his anxious breath, the tremor in his hand as he placed it over mine, and his heart pumping furiously just beneath my fingertips. “That happens whenever I’m around you…”

“It happens to me too,” I stated in wonder.

“You’re right…it’s me. It’s just me, Poppy,” he said simply. “Just us.”

It was just him. Just us. My hands slowly reached for his shoulders as I moved to delicately slip off the flannel shirt he was wearing.

“Is this okay?” I checked.

“ _Yes_.”

We wordlessly undressed each other, stealing soft kisses as our clothing dropped to the freezing apartment floor. He rested me down onto the bed with a profound sense of care and tenderness, and I melted into him with complete trust and fervor. I granted his whispered request to touch me without an inkling of resistance, and he did not disappoint. He handled me as if it were a privilege to see me undressed, to caress me, to enter me. I handled him the same. I peppered featherlight kisses along his jaw, neck, shoulders and danced my fingers along his chest as our hearts raced in sync. His name unconsciously escaped my lips in breathy ecstasy and our eyes met in awestruck splendor as we made love to each other.

There, twisting in his bed sheets as moonlight spilled over us from the skylight above, I experienced all that I had been lacking before. I felt safe with Zyaire, safer than I had ever felt with anyone, and I also felt so much _more_. I felt desired, valued, bold, passionate, _alive_. All of the things I thought I’d learn to live without. Now that I had gotten a taste, now that I realized what I had been missing out on, I knew that there was no going back.

I rejoiced in this feeling as I collapsed naked into his arms, my wild hair splayed across his pillow as I recuperated from the euphoria that had overtaken me minutes before, the likes of which had been unknown to me until tonight.

“Did that really just happen?” I moaned quietly once I found my words.

“I’m not sure…I think I may be dreaming,” Zyaire panted in a daze, his fingers drifting lazily up and down my spine.

“Do you want me to pinch you?” I mumbled.

“Don’t you dare. If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up…” he sighed luxuriously and closed his eyes.

“Tu gražus žmogus…” I exhaled affectionately, sluggishly propping myself up on my elbow to better admire him. _(You beautiful man…)_

“That’s not fair…you know I don’t understand you,” he muttered, his eyes still closed.

“All the more reason to learn Vinkun, especially since you’re staying in Vilnius,” I pointed out, languidly dragging a finger along his chest. “You _are_ really staying in Vilnius, aren’t you? You didn’t just tell me that to get me into bed?”

His eyes opened to meet mine and he nodded with a soft smile, gently reaching up to brush his fingers across my cheek.

“I am really staying in Vilnius. I’m actually moving in here now that it’s vacant,” he gestured around to the modest apartment. “I mean it’s no _castle_ but…”

“Well so far I’m a big fan of it,” I flirted happily, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and cuddling against his chest again. “But why? After all of this time…why move to Vilnius now?”

“I don’t know…you’ll just laugh at me,” he sighed, rubbing his temple.

“Most likely, yes,” I confirmed before looking up at him expectantly. “But you know you have to tell me.”

“Well, I guess things changed after I saw you in The Emerald City, to tell the truth. It just kind of hit me that I was an adult. I wasn’t living with Mom, I wasn’t in college, I just…didn’t have much keeping me there anymore. Then catching up with you made me remember the summer I spent here and…well Oz help me, Poppy, you really did sell me on Vilnius. I found myself missing Dad, and Great Grandmother and, well, I missed…you,” he admitted before letting a tiny, disbelieving laugh escape. “But I never thought that you…that you and _I_ would…I mean I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t _hoped_ but—"

“You did?”

“Of course, I did. Have you met yourself?! You’re like this beautiful, witty—I don’t know— _enchantress_ who can make me feel so flustered and nervous,” he shook his head agitatedly. 

“Well, you certainly seemed confident _earlier_ ,” I replied in a mockingly seductive tone.

“See?! Like _that_. You just…mesmerize me,” he groaned before pressing an exasperated kiss to my forehead. “Poppy, I’ve had a pathetic crush on you since we met. I mean, it’s not like I spent years doing nothing but pining after you—I did see other people—but it’s almost like, ever since that summer, you were always kind of in the back of my mind. Then when I saw you in that library it all just kind of rushed back…but of course—then I saw you were _engaged_ so…”

“Yeah…” I sighed. I wondered when we’d get around to talking about that. He turned onto his side so he could face me, draping his arm over my waist.

“So…what happened there? If you don’t mind me asking. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I’m _thrilled_ —it just seemed like the last time we talked that…” he trailed off awkwardly. “You are really done with Royce, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I am _really_ done with Royce,” I confirmed, rubbing a thumb over the still visible ring line on my finger. “Official as of this afternoon.”

Zyaire went quiet and he furrowed his brow as if suddenly deep in troubled thought.

“What is it?” I frowned.

“Poppy…I’m not your rebound, am I?” he asked nervously. “If this has all happened too fast, if you need more time to get over him, we can pause. I’ll wait. I just want to make sure this… _means_ for you…what it does for me…”

“Oh, Zyaire…no. No, no, no. Listen, Royce and I weren’t right from the start. I was already desperate for a way out of my engagement before you and I even ran back into each other. Yes, I officially ended things with him this afternoon, but trust me when I say that it was a long time coming. Besides, I _never_ felt about Royce the way I feel about you. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. This…us…what happened between us tonight…it means _everything_ ,” my heart spilled out in a great flood of words before I could stop it.

My face immediately reddened after my impassioned speech. I had really laid it all out there, hadn’t I?

“Sweet Oz…I’m sorry if that was too much too fast. That doesn’t scare you, does it?” I asked in a mortified tone.

“It scares the hell out of me…because I feel the same way,” he responded faintly.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I whispered blushingly. “Because I…I had a crush on you too, you know?”

He smiled softly and we lapsed into a comfortable, affectionate silence. Our burgeoning romance felt as natural as our friendship always had. However, things had changed since those days. We were adults now. We had jobs, responsibilities, and in my case, the entire Vinkus watching my every move. I felt my stomach twist with anxiety as I started to think this out. What were we getting into? What was _he_ getting into?

“Zyaire listen, if we do this, it is not always going to be easy. As a Tigelaar, my life is complicated. There’s rules and obligations and, well, my private life is rarely _actually_ private. If they find out you’re—well— _associated_ with me, you’re going to start getting attention. I’m already about to be the face of a huge scandal for ending my engagement. So, if you decide right now that you want out…I promise that there are no hard feelings. What happened here tonight can be a onetime thing, just one short night. One _wonderful_ night,” I emphasized softly. “I just wanted to prepare you for what might come, so…so you can decide if you really want to do this.”

He mulled this over for just a moment.

“But…I get to be with you?” he clarified softly.

“Yes…you get to be with me. If that’s what you want,” I affirmed.

Then, he simply pulled me into a deep, lingering kiss. I smiled into it, accepting it as both his answer and his permission, and my heart glowed with optimism. After years of bad timing, there was no distance, no fiancé, no pitiless mother to keep us apart. This was our chance. Our chance to actually be together.

I wasn’t sure when we had fallen asleep, but I awoke the next morning to pale, winter sunlight streaming through the skylight. The night had been cold and the mattress uneven, but after spending the night in Zyaire’s arms, I had never felt quite so well rested. We kissed each other good morning and I begrudgingly left his warm embrace to dress in my discarded clothes from the previous night. I looked in dismay at my reflection in his mirror as I attempted to tidy my rumpled curls. It was a lost cause.

“Maybe I can take some of the less crowded streets home,” I commented as I buttoned up my dress. Zyaire came up to me and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Well, like you said, you’re already going to be in the newspapers before too long. A walk of shame can’t change too much, can it?” he teased.

I turned to face him and wound my arms around his neck.

“How I hate to go and leave you lonely,” I pouted. “I’ve got a busy day at the castle, Mom and Dad are really putting me through the wringer with this training stuff. Can I see you again soon?”

“Name the time and place, your majesty,” he agreed. “I’m going back to The City tomorrow for a few days to get my things, and when I return, I’ll be an official resident of The Vinkus.”

“Well, if you ever need anyone to show you around town, I know a few spots…” I grinned.

“From what I hear, you know this place like the back of your hand,” he grinned back, stealing a final chaste kiss before handing me my coat.

We joined hands and started heading down towards the repair shop, chatting loudly as we descended the crooked staircase. However, when we reached the landing of the shop, we both stopped dead in our tracks upon finding it very much open for business. Ike and his brand-new wife were behind the counter and Great Grandmother Alusia was in her rocking chair as always. All three of them stared at us silently as we stood with our hands linked, glued to the spot as if we had been caught in the act at the scene of a crime. There could be no doubt that I had stayed the night, and the state of my hair alone was a dead giveaway of what we had been getting up to.

“Labas rytas…” I embarrassedly waved to the room. _(Good morning.)_

“Labas rytas…” the three of them repeated back to me.

I pointed to the door and looked back to Zyaire. “So, I’m just gonna—yeah. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah…talk to you soon,” he muttered awkwardly, giving me a hasty kiss on the cheek.

“It was—uh…great to see you all again,” I addressed the shop with a nervous laugh, my face burning hotter than ever, before hurriedly fleeing the shop.

As I exited onto the street, I heard the voice of Great Grandmother Alusia whoop triumphantly to the rest of the shop.

“Aš žinojau tai! Aš žinojau tai! Susimokėk, Ike!” _(I knew it! I knew it! Pay up, Ike!)_


	12. Making a Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Sex

◈ **Chapter 12: Making a Move** ◈

It felt as if I had finally been let in on the secret.

After my night with Zyaire, all of those romantic poems, songs, and plays were beginning to make perfect sense to me. I strolled about the castle in a carefree state, swaying and sweeping throughout the halls, unable to stop smiling and giggling to myself. I felt like a heroine from one of those sultry novels that Mom _claims_ she never reads. Word had gotten around the castle of my broken engagement and I was certain that staff members were thinking that I’d lost my brain. I was certainly not acting in a way that a young lady whose wedding was called off would be _expected_ to act. 

My dreamy mood was also starting to affect my job too. I found myself getting frequently distracted while working alongside my parents. Physically, I was in Mom’s office. Mentally, I was in that little apartment above the repair shop…recalling how good Zyaire had looked in the moonlight…

“So, we need to finalize the details of their request by Monday at the latest…Poppy? _Poppy_!” my mother called to me from far away. I snapped out of my daydream at once and glanced at my parents.

“Oz to Poppy. Your head has been somewhere over the rainbow all day,” Dad pointed out.

“Sorry! Sorry…” I shook my head, rubbing the large red spot on my cheek that had formed from leaning my face against my hand. I sighed and smiled sweetly at my father. “Dad, do you remember when you dropped your watch in a pickle jar and it stopped working?”

“Um…sort of?” he said slowly. He must have thought that I’d lost my brain too. “What about it?”

I just leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Zyaire had returned to The Emerald City as he said he would to pack and tie up loose ends. It was utterly unreasonable for me to feel this way, but I missed him. He hadn’t even officially _moved_ here yet and I missed him. After what happened between us, having to wait even a few days to see each other again seemed a more agonizing stretch of time than the seven years we spent with zero contact.

In a move completely out of the ordinary for me, I woke up extremely early on the day he was expected back. Preparing for a day of hard work, I dressed in warm leggings and a comfortable gray dress with a long-sleeved flannel thrown over it. I pulled my hair into a sloppy ponytail as I rushed down the steps until I stopped short upon unexpectedly encountering my mother in the foyer, sipping coffee in an armchair. Somehow, I got the sense that she had been expecting me.

“Morning, Poppy,” she said in a light tone, peering at me over the rim of her mug.

“Morning, Mama…” I greeted her slowly.

“And where are you off to so bright and early?” she asked, arching one eyebrow. “Usually, you don’t rise until noon.”

“I’m just going to help a friend,” I said evasively, shrugging on my winter coat.

“A friend?”

“Yeah, a friend. I’m helping a friend move in today.”

“Does this friend happen to live in an apartment over a certain repair shop?” she asked casually as she took another sip from her unsweetened coffee.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, narrowing my eyes at her suspiciously. “How do you _do_ that?”

“Why, you said it yourself. I’m the wise Elphaba Tigelaar who sees all, knows all. I have my ways,” she smirked, standing out of the chair and walking towards me with a satisfied look. I rolled my eyes at her choice of phrasing. “And does this _friend_ happen to be the reason you’ve been dancing around this place like you could burst into song at any moment?”

I scoffed…but then found myself fighting a guilty grin at her observation.

“Is it that obvious?” I blushed, knowing it was no use not to fess up.

“Yes, honey. It’s that obvious,” she teased, matching my smile. “Dress warm today, okay? Oh—and tell Zyaire he is welcome at the castle any time.”

“I will, Mama,” I said with a quiet chuckle, slightly embarrassed but also faintly amused. I buttoned up the rest of my coat and I started heading out the door.

“Poppy?”

“Yes?”

“You look…happy,” she observed softly, holding her mug in both hands while giving me a doting look that made it impossible for me to feel annoyed at her. Elphaba Tigelaar sees all, knows all.

“Oh, you know me…” I responded with an authentic smile. “I’m always happy.”

Morning moisture still hung in the brisk air as I eagerly waited for Zyaire outside of the repair shop with bagels and coffee in hand. I glanced expectantly down the way every couple of clock-ticks for any sign of him and did an excited double take when I at last saw him coming up the street with a cardboard box in his arms. As soon as he noticed me, his face immediately broke into one of those smiles I adored. I had missed that dorky grin.

“I thought you might like some help,” I called to him once he was in earshot.

“Yeah, I’d love some,” he said as he approached me, glancing around the area. “Where are they?”

“Huh?”

“Your team of movers from the castle, where are they?” he said in a very tongue-in-cheek way.

“I’m the help, you _idiot_ ,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Oh _you_! I’m sorry, it’s just so hard to picture the future Queen of The Vinkus hauling boxes up the stairs!” he mocked me with a rascally grin.

“Uh huh. Keep that up and there’s a definish chance she won’t help at all,” I advised.

He unlocked the empty shop and set the box down just inside the door. I stepped inside and set the coffee and bagels on the counter, rubbing my hands together to get warm.

“I brought you coffee, but I wasn’t sure how you take it,” I commented, turning to face him just in time for him to friskily capture my waist and pull me close.

“I missed you,” he confessed openly.

“I missed you too...” I responded with a tiny smile. “Welcome back.”

We met halfway in a soft but sweet kiss. I felt a little less silly upon hearing that he had missed me too, though I got the feeling that we weren’t only talking about these past few days. Upon pulling away from our kiss, Zyaire moved to wrap his arms around me fully, cozily pulling me closer as he pressed his forehead to mine.

“You’re just doing that because you’re cold, aren’t you?” I accused him in a whisper, the icy tip of my nose brushing against his.

“You got me.”

Before too long, a carriage came by with the rest of Zyaire’s belongings. He didn’t have many things since he was mainly making due with the furniture Ike had left behind, so the move was fairly easy. Ike had closed the shop for the day so we could tromp up and down the stairs as much as we needed to without disturbing any customers…as if we had never disturbed his customers before. Ike had also apparently offered to help with the move but Zyaire insisted that he stay home. ‘Dad has back troubles’, he explained. I believed Zyaire’s reasoning, I did…but I also suspected that it wasn’t unintentional that we’d be alone together today. I certainly wasn’t complaining.

Once all of the boxes were upstairs, I began helping him unpack and sort his things. However, it wasn’t clear if I was helping or hindering the endeavor seeing as I kept getting distracted by his belongings.

“Everything you own is _green_!” I complained in disgust as I worked on hanging clothes in his closet. “Green—green— _lime_ green—”

“Well, Poppy, I have lived in The Emerald City almost my entire life. It’s practically a requirement over there.”

“But you’re in Vilnius now! This—” I held up an emerald green jacket with gold buttons. “Is _not_ going to fly.”

“I’ll never wear green again if it makes you happy,” he promised from across the room as he hooked up a lamp for his bedside table. “But you have to help me buy new clothes.”

“I can help you there,” I promised readily. I loved shopping.

I reached down to pick up another box but dropped it immediately with a huge _thunk_ , finding it far heavier than I had predicted.

“Oz, what do you have in this one, _rocks_?!” I complained, placing my hands on my hips and giving the box a light kick.

“Well, yes…”

My eyes widened and I slowly looked over to him in astonishment. “No…tell me it’s not…”

“Sweet Oz, Poppy…”

“Is it the rock collection!?” I asked, jumping up and down in excitement. “Tell me it’s the rock collection.”

“It’s the rock collection,” he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking to the ceiling as if cursing the day that he had ever collected his first rock.

“I’ve waited _years_ to see the famous collection!” I enthused, clapping my hands in excitement. “Show me, you have to show me! Roko kolekcija!” _(Rock collection!)_

He groaned and walked over to hoist up the cardboard box, setting it on the bed without breaking a sweat. 

“Oz, that box was horrendibly heavy and you picked it up like it was _nothing_ ,” I pointed out, twirling the tip of my ponytail with an impressed look.

“Yeah, well…you get used to heavy lifting when you’re in construction. Plus—I mean—you know, I started working out quite a bit while living in The City so…” he stretched nonchalantly, even going as far to subtly _flex_ as if I wouldn’t know what he was doing.

“Zyaire, are…are you trying to impress me?” I asked, fighting off a _highly_ amused grin.

“No!” he blurted out hastily. 

“You are! You’re flirting with me!” I fiendishly called him out.

“I’m not flirting with you; you’re flirting with me!” he accused.

“Am not!” I gasped, still coquettishly twisting at the end of my ponytail.

“Are too! Look at what you’re doing right now!”

“Okay, I am. But so are you!”

“Well…is it working at least?”

“Yes, it is,” I grinned. I approached him in a beguiling manner and leaned in closely as if I were going to kiss him, but just before our lips met, I whispered…

“Show me the collection.”

He yielded to my persuasion and we ended up sitting cross-legged on his bed, getting side-tracked from unpacking for close to an hour as he showed me some of his favorites. I was obsessed with the sparkly ones and asked him repeatedly if I could keep them. He denied me every time. Sometimes he’d go on a long tangent about how a rock formed, how he acquired it, or why it was cool. I was _enthralled_.

“You know you are so adorable I can hardly stand it,” I praised him with a dreamy sigh. “I love that I can finally say that out loud.”

I ordered lunch for us and had it delivered to the shop, but when it arrived, I had Zyaire go downstairs to make the transaction. I wasn’t quite ready to be seen with anyone publicly, especially so soon after my engagement ended.

“The delivery person didn’t speak Ozian, I can’t believe you made me do that alone!” Zyaire complained upon returning upstairs, placing the bags of food on the bed.

“I’m sure he didn’t care how awkward you were after receiving the tip I gave him,” I shrugged. 

“You didn’t stay up here because you’re ashamed to be seen with a shop boy, right?” he asked lightly as he unwrapped our food.

“Hm? Oh, come on. You think I’d be ashamed to be seen with someone as cute as you?” I said unconcernedly as he handed me a sandwich. “Things are just, you know, _complicated_ right now.”

Being the princess, being the future _queen_ , meant that I was under constant scrutiny. My business was the The Vinkus’s business, whether I liked it or not. 

“The news about the engagement hasn’t reached the newspapers yet. I’m just kind of anxiously waiting for the story to break. If I’m seen with you right _after_ …well. Let’s just say it might not do wonders for my reputation, you know? Or yours, for that matter,” I sighed.

“Yeah, I get it,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean, I _don’t_ get it, but I’m fine to wait as long as you need. In the meantime, I guess it is a little exciting to be sneaking around like this.”

“That’s the spirit,” I winked.

We ate and talked and got even more side-tracked from our tasks. Collapsed cardboard boxes, green clothes, and random objects were strewn all across the floor with no semblance of organization. Eventually, we mustered enough motivation to get back to work.

“So, do you still hang out with those friends of yours?” he asked curiously. “Darielle and Natalia or whoever?”

“Oh, Darielle, Tacey, and Natala? No, not so much. After I went to college, we all kind of drifted apart. Natala attended Locklimb with me for a few months but she dropped out. I still get a Lurlinemas card from Darielle each year, but we never talk. You know, I think Tacey is actually married with a baby already,” I recalled. 

I took a moment to reflect on my old crew as I folded some of Zyaire’s spare bedsheets.

“You know, looking back, I don’t think they were the greatest friends anyway. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if someone actually likes you or if they just want to be close to you because you’re in the royal family,” I muttered.

“Well, I only like you because you’re in the royal family,” he taunted without missing a beat. I turned and smirked, tossing the sheet I’d been folding at him.

“I knew it, gold digger.” 

Inadvertently, my words reminded me of the altercation with the Runcorns in the dining room. I wasn’t sure I’d call them gold diggers, but as Dad had pointed out, it couldn’t be denied that the Runcorn’s were an opportunistic bunch. While I believed that Royce did love me, or at least the idea of me, I also believed that he had been well aware of the advantages that would have come out of marrying me. I shook my head, trying to clear away any and all thoughts of Royce, and opened up a new box which was filled with various knickknacks. I began to dig through it before something I came across caused me to gasp in surprise.

“No way…”

“What is it?” he asked curiously.

I reached in and carefully pulled out a small polaroid photo depicting two teenagers making a silly face for the camera.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” I shook my head, turning and holding up the photo so he could see it.

“Of course, I still have it,” he said, walking over to glance at the picture as well.

“We look so _young_ …” I mumbled in disbelief, looking upon our fifteen-year-old faces. “Oz, we were such dorks.”

“That’s not all I have, let me see if I can find it…” Zyaire commented, rummaging through the same box. “Ah, here it is.”

He pulled out a hardcover book and I frowned at first, not understanding how it was supposed to be significant to the two of us. However, he then flipped it open and handed it over for me to see a single, dried, red poppy pressed between the pages.

“It’s…the one that you gave me from behind your ear. After I…”

“Lost your poppy?” I filled in for him with a hint of irony.

“Yeah. Well…I didn’t want to lose my poppy again,” he murmured smoothly, leaning in a bit closer to me.

“Good line,” I whispered, numbly setting the book aside on his dresser. I delicately leaned back against the wall and shook my head, giving him a rather flustered look. “You kept it. I can’t believe you kept it.”

“Yeah, I did…” he breathed, the tension between us growing as he placed his hands on my hips.

“I kept the rock you gave me…” I confessed in a hushed tone, my eyes shifting down to glance at his lips. “From the river banks.”

“You kept the basalt?” he muttered meaningfully.

“Yeah, I did…”

There was a momentary, lustful pause before Zyaire and I abruptly found ourselves fiercely kissing each other in a mutually passionate embrace. He pressed me against the wall beside the dresser and trailed kisses down my neck as my hands pulled at his shirt clumsily. Something about the revelation that we had both held onto those little keepsakes throughout the years sparked such a strong feeling in us that the only outlet that seemed to suffice was to tear into each other madly. He picked me up, as he enjoyed doing, and I fastened my legs around him, my nails digging into his back as I clutched him tightly.

“Oh Zyaire, you’re so _strong_!” I teased him in a breathy, girlish voice. “Do you work out?”

“Shut up!” he growled as he flung me onto the bed before capturing my lips in another heated kiss.

◈◈◈

“I’m afraid that you’re _never_ going to finish unpacking while I’m around,” I regretfully informed Zyaire as I casually rested on my stomach, admiring my favorite sparkly rock of his which I had grabbed from the bedside table after we were through.

“Somehow I’m alright with that…” he sighed serenely.

“Never ask me to help you move again. Look at where my road of good intentions has left us,” I shook my head, gesturing to our state of undress before turning my attention back to the rock.

The sun was just beginning to set which caused orange light to streak in through the sky light above. We had spent nearly the entire day together.

“You really like the geode, don’t you?” he pointed out. I nodded my head and gave him an innocent, pleading look. That look could sometimes prove quite effective in getting me what I wanted, which at this moment, was the geode.

“Well, I guess if you really like it… _you still cannot have it_ ,” he said with a wily smirk. I gasped at his wickedness and clutched the stone tighter. 

“That’s so unfair!”

“Hey, it’s my favorite one. You can come visit it whenever you want,” he offered.

I sighed in defeat and nestled into his side, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“Zyaire…come meet my parents,” I requested out of the blue.

His eyebrows shot up and he gave me a nervous look. “Like…the king and queen?”

“No, my _parents._ I promise they’re not scary. Well, Mom can be, but she won’t be around you. I really want to show you where I live,” I pleaded, taking his hand and bringing it to my lips. “Please?” 

He looked into my eyes, hesitating for a moment before he nodded at last. I privately thought that while my pleading look hadn’t worked when I wanted the geode, at least it worked for this.

“Just my luck. I find the girl of my dreams and her parents have the power to _banish_ me if they don’t like me,” he groaned anxiously.

“Mmm…that is true,” I confirmed seriously, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “No pressure.”


	13. An Audience With the Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Trauma flashback (about sexual assault)

◈ **Chapter 13: An Audience with the Parents** ◈

"Okay it's so much scarier up close," Zyaire whispered urgently as I led him through the castle gates. "It really does… _loom_ …doesn't it?"

"There's no reason to be freaked out. Don't think of it as coming into a castle to meet the king and queen. You're just coming over to my house to hang out with my parents and me," I rubbed his arm comfortingly.

"No house I've ever visited had armed sentries out front…" he muttered fretfully.

"It's homier on the inside, I promise." When we stepped inside, his jaw dropped and he stared up in awe at the grand paintings, candelabras, and thick, velvet curtains that decorated our foyer.

"Welcome to the Tigelaar stronghold," I said dramatically with a sweeping gesture of my arm.

"You live here?" he asked in a hoarse voice, his eyes now focused on the crystal chandelier above our heads.

"Yes, I live here," I confirmed. I pointed off to the left of the foyer. "Through there is the Council Hall, that's where we have our horrid meetings with the councilmen and women. Not much to see there except a big table. Come along…" I pulled him along.

I gave him a quick tour of the first floor. Ballroom, kitchen, dining room, library. He stayed quiet for the majority of the tour, but every so often he would gasp, or simply chuckle tensely as he rubbed the back of his head.

"And the upper floors are made up of bedrooms and offices for the most part. There are three more ballrooms though—"

"You have _four_ ballrooms!?" he blurted out with a flabbergasted look.

"One on the second floor, two on the third," I confirmed. "We usually only use the main one on the first floor, the others are kind of small. But sometimes we use one of the smaller ones for different sized functions. On very special occasions we'll open all four at once for people to meander throughout, but those are only for really _fabulous_ gatherings with tons of people. I love those events."

"Oh, sure…"

"Come on, Mom and Dad should be waiting for us in the living room by now," I said quickly, pulling him along before he could talk himself out of it. I noticed him square his shoulders and take a deep breath in order to prepare for his audience with my parents. "Hey…just be yourself. They're going to love you."

He looked back to me and exhaled slowly before nodding. I gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek before leading him into the living room. Mom and Dad were sitting on the sofa together, voices raised as they engaged in a spirited yet lighthearted debate. They didn't notice us right away and I vaguely overheard Dad saying something along the lines of 'alright Fae, let's settle this with a thumb war'. I cleared my throat and Mom finally spotted us. She nudged Dad with her elbow and they quickly stood up off the sofa, hoping to make a semblance of a good impression after being caught in a carefree quarrel. They were both dressed in casual clothes for which I was thankful. I couldn't imagine how intimidating it would be for Zyaire to meet them in any sort of royal regalia, and I hoped that their approachable appearance would put him more at ease.

"Mom, Dad…this is Zyaire Andris," I introduced. I realized that I wasn't sure how to describe him in relation to me. He was my friend, my best friend, but he was obviously so much more now. I wasn't sure I could call him my boyfriend yet, but lover was _far_ too scandalacious a term to use in front of my parents. Mom was the first to extend her hand to shake his.

"It's a pleasure to _officially_ meet you, Zyaire. I'm Poppy's mother, Elphaba. This is my husband, Fiyero."

Dad reached out to shake his hand firmly.

"Your majesties…it's an honor," Zyaire said in a voice that suggested his throat was very dry.

Mom scoffed at the term and rolled her eyes. "Poppy, didn't you tell him not to use formalities with us?"

"He's just nervous," I grinned, nudging Zyaire with my elbow. He shot me a look.

"Yeah, he looks nervous," Dad observed, putting his hands in his pockets. "What did you tell him about us to scare him so bad, Poppy?"

"Only the _truth_ ," I laughed.

Zyaire and I sat on the loveseat and my parents returned to the sofa across from us. Zyaire was very quiet and tense at first, but as we got to talking, his shoulders gradually loosened up and he seemed to at last unclench his jaw. Mom asked him questions about where he went to school, about his family, and about where he used to live.

"I love The Emerald City," she sighed wistfully. "That's actually where Fiyero and I eloped. Our son Liir, Poppy's brother, is living there right now with his boyfriend."

"I met him, actually! I attended his panel on Vinkun culture, it was very fascinating," Zyaire told her.

"Oh yes, both of our children are very talented in their own way. We're very proud of them," Mom bragged on us, causing me to roll my eyes in subtle embarrassment.

"Now I just need to find my own talent," Zyaire chuckled. "I play a bit of mandolin but—"

"You do? I play the guitar!" Dad blurted out excitedly.

"Correction—he _thinks_ he plays the guitar," Mom amended. "I got him a guitar for Lurlinemas years ago and he's picked it up maybe twice."

"Well looks like _someone_ isn't getting serenaded with a beautiful guitar solo later," Dad griped. "Okay, but I _do_ play the ukulele."

"That is true. Credit where it's due, Fiyero does play ukulele quite well. He has since college," Mom confirmed with a nod.

"And Fae sings and plays the piano beautifully," Dad boasted on Mom's behalf.

"Just a little," Mom dismissed modestly. "Though I did teach Liir how to play. As for Poppy…"

"You don't need to say it," I rolled my eyes. "Goodness knows I don't have a scrap of musical talent."

"Well…I—I wouldn't say _no_ musical talent," Mom searched for the right words. "When you _sing_ it just—"

"Sounds like a dying Cat?" I filled in for her.

"You know I don't like jokes about Animals," she scolded, though I could tell she was stifling a smirk at my appropriate analogy. "Oh honey, you're just so talented at…so many _other_ things."

"Maybe we can get together and jam sometime? Ukulele and mandolin style," Dad said, animatedly pretending to strum an air ukulele.

"You don't have to say yes to that just because he's the king," I quickly assured Zyaire under my breath before changing the subject. "Speaking of Liir, his event is actually where Zyaire and I ran into each other again."

"That's right, Poppy said you've lived the majority of your life in The City?" Dad questioned.

"Yes, my mother moved us both up there when I was about a year old and I've lived there until very recently. My dad is from here, though. I actually met Poppy when I was staying with my dad for a summer a few years back," he explained.

"Until his mother picked him up with no warning," I interjected bitterly. I still wasn't over it. I would never be over it.

"He's her friend from that summer, remember Fiyero? We had that dinner party and Poppy left in the middle of it? I'll never forget when she came home crying that her friend was moving away," Mom recalled.

" _Mom_!" I blurted out, feeling my face redden.

"Wait, you cried the night I left?" Zyaire asked me.

"Oh, you're _that_ kid?!" Dad exclaimed in recognition, his eyes brightening as all of the potential ways to give me a hard time started coming to him.

"Yes, dear. I told you that, remember? He's the one she had her first kiss with," Mom added with a wicked smirk, looking over at Dad conspiringly. I hated when they worked together.

"That's right, I remember that now! She said something along the lines of…what was it, Fae? How she'd never _ever_ see him again?" Dad chipped in, clearly trying to push my buttons.

"Do you two _live_ to humiliate me?" I groaned, putting my hands over my face.

"Poppy, it's okay! Look…I may have even shed a tear or two on the train ride back to The City that night if that makes you feel any better," Zyaire admitted.

"You did?"

"So, we can be humiliated together," he offered. I responded with a hesitant smile and the moment I did he nudged my shoulder jokingly. "But seriously, I can't believe you cried over me! _Fifteen-year-old_ me!"

"I hate you. _All_ of you," I muttered under my breath, including Zyaire in my contempt.

"You know…my Great Grandmother Alusia wouldn't believe it if I told her where I was sitting," Zyaire mentioned, gesturing a bit to the room.

"Oh yes, I remember her. She was very kind," Mom recalled. "Fiyero, his father owns that repair shop in town. The one that fixed your watch."

"Repair shop! _That's_ why you brought up the—" he blurted out, looking my way in understanding of why I had brought up the pickle jar incident the other day. I shot him a look and shook my head, pleading with him not to continue.

"I mean—I hear that's a fine shop!" Dad cleared his throat, thankfully changing course as he held out his wrist to show off his watch. "Your father certainly does a masterful job with his repairs."

"Thank you, sir," Zyaire nodded.

"You know what's funny? I think _my_ great grandmother was named Alusia," Dad thought out loud to himself, only now registering the name Zyaire had mentioned in passing.

"She's named after her. My family was really into naming people after—well—people in _your_ family I guess," Zyaire explained with a hint of embarrassment. "My great grandmother has lived in Vilnius for her entire life and she's…kind of obsessed with the Tigelaar family."

"She's a captivating person, Dad. Funny too," I mentioned. "She's told me all of her stories of growing up in Vilnius. She has stories galore about Senelis Indigo." _(Grandfather Indigo.)_

Dad raised his eyebrows and his face softened a bit. "Truly? She remembers when my dad was king?"

I saw Mom delicately take his hand in hers and squeeze it. I knew the fact that his father had died when he was too young to remember him was one of my dad's greatest sources of sadness in life.

"Well—I simply must meet this woman," Dad decided. "We'll have to have her over sometime."

"Well, I can promise that she would _love_ to meet you," Zyaire responded with a chuckle. That was quite the understatement.

"So! What motivated you to make the big move to Vilnius?" Dad asked curiously.

"It just seemed like it was a good time for a change. I wanted to be closer to Dad and Great Grandmother and…I don't know. As much as I loved The Emerald City…Vilnius is different."

Zyaire's eyes flicked over to my direction and I couldn't have warded off the warm smile that graced my lips if I tried.

"Good man, Vilnius _is_ different!" Dad agreed heartily. "I've been all over Oz—"

"Because schools kept kicking him out," Mom interjected.

"As I was _saying_ before my beautiful wife rudely yet accurately interrupted—I've traveled all over. I graduated college in Gillikin, fought a war in Fliaan, did business in Quadling Country. Hell, I married a Munchkinlander and, as she said, we got hitched in The Emerald City!"

"Please don't hold where I was born against me," Mom muttered under her breath. She hated Munchkinland.

"But there's just something about The Vinkus," Dad concluded.

"Dad, you may be just a _bit_ biased," I pointed out good-humoredly.

"You're one to talk, daughter of mine. You may love The Vinkus even more than I do, and that's saying something!" Dad responded.

"I didn't say I didn't agree with you!" I laughed.

"All I'm saying is, welcome to Vilnius, Zyaire. I hope it brings you that change you're looking for," Dad offered.

"Thank you, sir. I think it will," he nodded once, a ghost of a smile creeping to his lips.

I was heartened to see Zyaire feel more at ease as our conversation moved forward. My parents had that power. One could either feel completely at home around them or incredibly tense, and they could expertly skew a conversation whichever direction was more advantageous for them. They could be intimidating and downright _terrifying_ powerheads, or they could be who they truly were. Hopeless, bumbling idiots who loved each other and their kids more than anything.

After a while, they had to return to work so I led Zyaire out of the living room to show him some other parts of the castle. A few staff members glanced our way as we went by, but I wasn't stressed about it. Part of their job was to be discreet about the personal lives of the royal family. We toured some of the more interesting rooms on the upper floors, such as the window lounge and those extraneous ballrooms, before we ended up in my bedroom on the third floor.

"It's still exactly like it was when I was a teenager. I've been meaning to redecorate since I came home from college," I commented as we walked in, moving to go sit on my bed. "But this is it."

"It's kind of fun seeing your room like this," he commented, looking at some of the knickknacks and picture frames I had. I saw him chuckle and shake his head in wonder when he spotted the basalt on my nightstand.

"Thanks for showing me around," he told me as he moved to sit beside me on the bed.

"Thanks for not panicking _too_ much," I replied wittily.

"You know you were right. Your parents are just like…normal parents. Your dad is just like you," he observed.

"I get that a lot," I grinned.

"It's weird to see parents getting along," he chuckled.

"They get along almost _too_ well sometimes," I rolled my eyes.

"I think it's sweet. My mom would sometimes say that The Emerald City wasn't enough distance between her and Dad."

"Well, regardless of what your parents think of each other, I think you still turned out pretty great," I said truthfully.

He smiled at me softly. "Thanks."

Then, we both leaned in and gave each other a gentle, lingering kiss. However—the sweetness of the moment was viciously wiped away as an unwelcome memory burst into my mind. Jokubas kissing me on this very bed on my sixteenth birthday, his hands groping at me despite my protests. Him yelling that I had wanted it because _I had brought him up here_ —

I pulled away from the kiss suddenly and scooted just a few inches away, tucking my hair behind my ear anxiously.

"Is everything alright?" he asked me, clearly a little confused at my knee jerk reaction.

"Yes...it's just…I really did just want to show you my room. I didn't want you to think I was trying to… _seduce_ you or anything," I explained uncomfortably.

"Oh—I'm sorry if the kiss came on too strong. I wasn't going to try and take things further," he assured me at once, putting his hands on his knees to give me space.

"No, you didn't come on too strong. You didn't do anything wrong. I just…never mind," I shook my head, laughing faintly.

I wasn't sure how to explain why I had said what I said without getting into the whole story, which I did not feel up to at the moment. Maybe ever. He looked at me as if he wanted to follow up with more questions, but thankfully, he did not.

"So…what do you want to see next? The watch tower or the catacombs?" I changed the subject, standing up off the bed and offering him my hand.

"Wait…this place has _catacombs_!?"


	14. In Good Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Heavy alcohol use / War (brief mention) / Sex (brief mention)

◈ **Chapter 14: In Good Company** ◈

The day after next, I woke up in my bedroom to someone gently tapping my forehead.

"Wake up, sweetheart."

I groaned and squinted my eyes open to see my parents hovering over me. " _What_?" I muttered grumpily.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Dad asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked groggily, sitting up in bed and rubbing my eyes.

"So…the bad news is that the newspapers finally found out that the wedding is off…" Mom informed me calmly.

"And the good news is that my daughter made the front page!" Dad broadcasted proudly, waving a newspaper in his hand.

I gave them a horrified look and pulled the covers over my head. " _That's_ the good news!?"

"No, that's _not_ the good news," Mom said exasperatedly. "Honey, we are not going to let you hide under your covers all day. We're _celebrating_ today."

I uncovered my head and narrowed my eyes at them, blowing a strand of hair that had fallen in my face out of the way. "Celebrating?" I muttered skeptically.

"Poppy, we're throwing you your very own Scandal Break Party!" Dad announced.

"My very own _what_?"

"Now get dressed and come downstairs to the living room in twenty minutes. We're already behind since you decided to sleep in until eleven—Oz you _truly_ are just like your dad," Mom chided.

My weirdo parents left the room and I stared up at the canopy over my head. I really, _really_ didn't want to read that article. I _did_ want to hide under my covers today. However, curiosity about whatever they were talking about soon got the better of me, so I begrudgingly got dressed and dragged myself down to the first floor. As soon as I stepped into the living room, I was immediately showered by a storm of confetti that, upon closer examination, looked like tiny bits of ripped up newspaper.

"Happy scandal, Poppy!" a few voices shouted at me.

I spat out a newsprint confetti piece that had landed on my tongue and looked around my surroundings with a perplexed look. The room was halfheartedly decorated with a couple streamers that looked leftover from Lurlinemas, the phonograph in the corner was playing some lively music, and, bizarrely, there were six shot glasses placed on the coffee table beside a truly gigantic bottle of whiskey. But that wasn't all…

"Liir! Trism!" I shouted in surprise upon seeing them in the living room. I ran and nearly knocked Liir clean off of his feet in a hug.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Ah—we couldn't miss the royal scandal party," Liir beamed. "We came back into town last night; we were just sneaky about it."

Trism gave me a big hug too and whispered into my ear. "We didn't say anything before but we both thought Royce was kind of a prick. Good for you."

I laughed weakly. "Thanks."

"They aren't the only ones here," Mom pointed out, turning me around to see the last surprise guest.

Zyaire stood off to the side with a small bundle of wildflowers, smiling in nervous amusement. I grinned in relief to see him and approached as he opened his arms to pull me into a comforting hug. I was so happy that he was here, even considering the unusual reason for gathering.

"Your family is weird," he mumbled into my ear. "Weird and wonderful."

I pulled out of the hug and gestured at the small bouquet of flowers. "Are _these_ for me?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes, for you," he confirmed, placing them in my hand and then moving to pull a scrap of newspaper out of my hair.

"Attention Tigelaars and friends!" Dad announced to the group. Zyaire and I turned our attention his way and moved to sit on the loveseat together, Liir and Trism settled together on the couch, and Mom and Dad, tag-teaming as hosts, stood where they could be seen by the four of us.

"We have a couple of festivations to partake in today to honor our beloved Poppy who made the front page, and as the one who has been a Tigelaar for the longest and—dare I say—the one most _accustomed_ to scandals—"

"I'm fairly sure your wife gives you a run for your money, Yero—" Mom protested, but Dad pressed on.

"—I will start the festivating by reading some headlines from my own quite scandalacious past!"

Mom handed him a stack of old newspapers that looked like they had been recently coated with dust. Dad took one off the top and cleared his throat loudly before reading the first headline.

" _Prince Fiyero Tigelaar (16) Found Passed Out in Town Square Fountain_ ," he announced, kindly translating the article into Ozian, I assumed for the benefit of Trism and Zyaire.

Everyone in the room burst out laughing and, despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but crack a smile too. He selected a different newspaper from the stack.

" _Prince Fiyero Tigelaar (19) Expelled from Sixth College in Five Months._ A record that has still yet to be beat, I might add…" Dad boasted.

" _Hidden Affairs of The King? Woman Comes Forward with Claim That King Fiyero Tigelaar (25) Is the Father of Her Child_."

"WHAT?!" Liir and I blurted out simultaneously, looking each other's way in absolute horror.

"It was proven false!" Mom assured everyone loudly before we freaked out too much. "They did a test and everything. But _Oz_ —Vilnius was going mad at the time."

Liir and I sighed in relief, trying not to picture what it'd be like to have an illegitimate half-brother or sister running around somewhere in Oz.

"Alright, Elphaba. You're up," Dad said. Mom put on her reading glasses before producing her own sizable stack of old newspapers.

"Now keep in mind these Vinkun headlines only scratch the _surface_ of what's been printed about me throughout the years. I'm not one to boast, but even my birth announcement made the front page in Nest Hardings—" she stated.

"Elphaba, we're royalty. _All_ of our birth announcements made the front page," Dad scoffed, gesturing towards Liir and me to make a point.

"Not like mine. I think the headline was something along the lines of… _Curse from the Unnamed God? Terror at Thropp Manor as an Unnaturally Green Child is Born to the Governor and his Wife_ ," she declared sardonically.

"You had that locked and loaded, didn't you?" Dad pointed out. Mom smirked conceitedly as she gave the Vinkun newspaper she was holding a shake.

" _The Vinkus's Colorful New Queen, Not Just 'Green' When It Comes to Politics_ …" she announced with an amused smile. "Here's a nice quote from this one as well… ' _She's an odd choice…she's just an odd choice…'_ "

She looked to my Father with a fond look. "An odd choice indeed, Fiyero."

He said nothing but reached over to press an adoring kiss to her green hand in response.

" _Mad with Grief? Queen Elphaba Tigelaar (26) Makes Delusional Claim That the Late King Fiyero Is Still Alive'_ ," she announced ironically.

I registered that this must have been from the horrific time in their lives when my father was off fighting in the war against Fliaan. He had gone missing in action and was presumed dead for weeks, but she had never given up hope that he had survived.

"Well, I was clearly right. Who's delusional now?" she muttered with a faintly haunted look before moving on to the next without further comment.

"Alright, last but not least…uh… ' _Queen Elphaba Tigelaar Makes Scene at Charity Trivia Night'—_ okay Liir darling, you're next!"Mom sped through hurriedly.

"Not so fast, love of my life! To get the full effect of _that_ tale you have to read at least the first paragraph—give me that!" Dad insisted impishly. He snatched the paper from her hands before she could stop him and began reading it loudly as she suddenly scrambled to seize it back from him.

" _Queen Elphaba Tigelaar (35) caused a commotion while attending a trivia night to benefit homeless teenagers in Vilnius. Upon being told that the answer she gave was incorrect—?!"_ Dad gave a scandalized gasp for dramatic effect and clicked his tongue while shaking his head towards Mom who looked quite steamed at the memory. " _Queen Tigelaar got into an appalling shouting match with the event host. Witnesses report that Queen Tigelaar demanded that the answers be looked up again and yelled that the host was a, quote, 'lying imbecile'. The scene concluded with Queen Tigelaar storming out of the hall, King Tigelaar (34) following guardedly behind. The royal couple did, however, make a generous donation to the cause_."

Mom was finally successful in grabbing it back from Dad's hands and she set it back on her stack with a huff.

"I had the answer right! I did a term paper on The Great Drought at Shiz, I know what I'm talking about!" she asserted resentfully.

"I believe you, smarty pants. Flipping the card table might have taken it a bit too far though…you made the host _cry_ ," Dad revealed, unable to hold back his merciless laughter at her expense.

"He had it coming."

"Alright I guess it's my turn!" Liir's voice spoke up before Mom and Dad could banter further. "Poppy, I'm sure you aren't forgetting when I had my own headline a few years back."

He stood off the couch and pulled a folded newspaper from his back pocket.

"Front page, bold text. _'Prince Liir Tigelaar (22) Abdicates His Birthright to The Vinkun Throne, Desecrating Generations Old Tradition. Tigelaar Family Unsure of What to Make of Disgraced First Born'_ ," Liir announced to the rest of the room.

"Oof!" I winced. "I forgot how ruthless they were towards you, Liir!"

"We're so proud of our disgraced first born," Mom pestered him affectionately, going over to leave a kiss on the top of his head.

" _Mom_ ," he groaned in embarrassment.

"Now that we have all shared our headlines, it's time to turn our attention to the woman of the hour…our beloved Poppy. Poppy Tigelaar, are you ready to reveal your headline?" Dad asked.

I shook my head and whined in misery, placing a loveseat pillow over my face. I had been so entertained by these old articles that I had almost forgotten the reason behind all of this frivolity.

"Poppy, no matter what it says, everybody in this room is here to support you. We'll read the article and then it'll be over. One day this mess will be a distant memory…maybe even a funny story," Mom assured me calmly.

I lowered the pillow from my face to see Dad gesture around the living room to acknowledge the people in my corner. "You're in good company, sweetheart."

I finally relented with a heavy sigh and a defeated nod. "Alright…let's see it…"

Dad retrieved the copy of today's paper that had been lying face down on the coffee table and placed it into my hands. I took a deep breath and reluctantly glanced at the headline.

" _The Wedding Is Off! Pitiless Princess Poppy Leaves Ex-Fiancé Heartbroken. Exclusive Interview with Royce Runcorn, The Victim of The Queen to Be's Callousness…"_ I read aloud with a disgusted scoff.

"Not biased at all, are they? At least they had fun with that alliteration…" I muttered. I looked up to see my father pouring whiskey into the six shot glasses, one for each of us. "Dad, what are you doing?"

"Well, this is the next part of the party. When we come across something untrue or unfair, we toast to it and take a shot," Dad explained, wagging the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

My jaw dropped and my eyes darted to Mom, checking with her that this was indeed the plan. She just gave kind of a shrug that suggested that it wasn't her idea but that she'd go along with it. We each picked up a shot glass and I looked between Zyaire, my brother and Trism, and to my parents who had set up this preposterous celebration just so I didn't have to feel alone today.

"To making the front page," I toasted to my support team.

"To making the front page," they chanted. We all took the shot and I grimaced as the burning liquid ran down my throat before exhaling sharply and squaring my shoulders. "Let's do this."

Dad started to refill the shot glasses. I had a feeling we'd need it.

" _In an unexpected turn of events, it has come to the media's attention that the royal engagement between Princess Poppy Tigelaar of Vilnius (22) and Royce Runcorn of Upper Fanarra (23), has been called off. The pair met while attending college at The Vinkus's own Locklimb Universitetas and a fairytale romance ensued_..." I read out loud. "Fairytale romance!? Oz, I don't think I can stomach being the one to read this."

"Fiyero, you read it. You're better at translating than I am," Mom suggested. "We do have to drink for fairytale romance though."

I had never seen Mom quite like this. I had seen her occasionally drink, but I could say with confidence I had never taken _shots_ with her. I assumed she was being less uptight about this kind of festivating for my sake. I thought about how absurd it was that I was drinking with my family and my…and _Zyaire_ …in the middle of the afternoon.

"To the fairytale romance," Mom toasted acerbically.

"The fairytale romance," we all cheered with matched facetiousness. The whiskey burned almost worse the second time, but I embraced it. They were right. This did beat hiding under my covers.

"Alright… pasakų romanas…fairytale romance," Dad read. " _The young couple, pictured below, seemed to be the perfect match. Once it was revealed that young Princess Tigelaar was going to take over the duty as heir after her brother, Prince Liir Tigelaar, walked out on his responsibilities_ —"

"Hey you got a shout out!" Trism laughed, clearly getting a kick out of the festivations. He wrapped his arm around Liir's shoulders. "You're such a disappointment."

" _Vilnius anxiously waited to see when our princess would find her prince—and by extension—our future king_. _It seemed as if she had found him when the happy couple became engaged on the evening of August 1_ _st_ _. The citizens of Vilnius rejoicified as wedding preparations began. A proper royal wedding has not taken place since the union of the late King Indigo and Queen Nyre Tigelaar years back, as the current King Fiyero and Queen Elphaba shocked the country by impulsively eloping before they so much as made their first public appearance together in The Vinkus_."

Dad paused his reading for a moment to shoot Mom a flirtatious wink. "We really robbed them of a royal wedding with our thoughtless elopement, didn't we Fae?"

Mom smiled back at him in a lovingly conspiratorial way. "How hideoteously selfish of us."

" _It seemed on the outside that the young couple was perfect together, but apparently, all was not well in paradise. Though the breakup of Princess Poppy and Mr. Runcorn seemed sudden, witnesses report that the first public signs of trouble were detected on the evening of January 13_ _th_ _."_

I made a humiliated sound and stared at the ceiling unhappily. "Here we go…"

" _On said evening, a celebration was held at the castle to commemorate twenty-five years of marriage between King Fiyero and Queen Elphaba. Sources report that Princess Poppy gave a rather inebriated speech in which she made a series of bold statements that seemed to suggest discontentment with her own love life. One anonymous witness criticized the princess for her lack of decorum, and stated that she had even made a disgraceful reference to her parent's sexual relationship during the speech_ ," Dad read with an amused grin, brazenly waggling his eyebrows.

"Did they really have to include that?!" I complained, my face reddening.

"Wait…did you really do that?" Zyaire asked, forcing back a smile.

"Yes, and it was honestly the _funniest_ thing I've ever seen," Trism snorted.

"Look—it wasn't my finest moment, okay?" I glared.

"To Poppy's lack of decorum," Dad toasted, holding up his shot glass.

"To Poppy's lack of decorum."

"Ah—they're just jealous of us, Fae," Dad decided after taking his shot. "Who else can say that their marital sex life is newsworthy?"

" _Dad_!" I gasped in horror.

"For the love of Oz, shut up!" Liir shouted in mortification. Even Mom put her face in her hands in embarrassment. If the whiskey hadn't set in for all of us before, it certainly seemed to be now.

"Okay here comes the good part… _we have secured an exclusive interview_ …blah blah blah… _with the spurned ex himself, Royce Runcorn, to find out how things went so wrong_ …"

"Oh, goody," I mumbled. "Let's hear what Royce has to say."

" _Runcorn went on record to say; 'I loved the princess. I still do. We were perfect together…we deserved each other. I feel like she tore out my heart and stomped on it when she returned my ring_.'"

"To stomping on Royce's heart!" we toasted tipsily. The whiskey surely played a hand in my reaction, but I couldn't help but cackle magnificently at the image of me grinding my foot down upon Royce's heart. I was a pitiless princess, after all.

" _Runcorn went on to say that he was completely blindsided by her decision. 'I feel like not only have I lost my bride to be, but also my future. I studied politics extensively in school and was prepared and willing to rule as king. But of course, none of that matters when the decision is solely based on who the princess decides to keep around rather than who is best suited to lead.'"_

I grumbled under my breath about Royce's remarks and glanced at Zyaire who was sitting quite still, perhaps in a drunken daze, expressionlessly looking into his empty shot glass.

" _Runcorn went on to say that he does not wish the princess any ill will. 'I had so looked forward to governing The Vinkus…almost as much as I looked forward to becoming her husband, of course."_

"What a world…" Mom scoffed sinisterly. "You know, I always thought that it was just a little too _convenient_ that Royce transferred to Locklimb the week after it was announced that Poppy would be queen."

Dad read the conclusion which had recorded some of the reactions from Vinkun citizens. Some were outraged about the broken engagement, citing different reasons ranging from ' _my kid was really looking forward to the royal wedding_ ' to ' _how dare she break that poor boy's heart'_. Some seemed to not care either way, acknowledging that it wasn't any of their business, and a few even seemed in full support of my decision.

Then, suddenly—it was over. Dad sauntered over to turn up the music and as we all sat around making light of the article, I found myself to be in surprisingly high spirits for someone whose personal business was just smeared all over the front page of the Vilnius Daily. We stashed the paper away to gather dust along with the other ghosts of scandal past and I felt comforted by the fact that most other copies would be tossed into waste bins across The Vinkus by tomorrow. I felt ready to celebrate in earnest now that that particular chapter of my story had concluded for good.

As the party devolved into music and scattered intoxicated chitchat, Mom helped me up off the loveseat and pulled me into a tight hug.

"I'm so proud of you," she murmured to me privately. "Just do whatever makes you happy and don't give a twig what anyone else thinks."

"Thanks, Mama," I responded genuinely before forcing back a laugh at her expense. "Did flipping a table at a trivia night make you happy?"

"You're _grounded_ , you cursed brat," she scowled before smoothing back my hair and kissing me on the forehead.

The rest of the afternoon melted into a boozy fog. At one point Liir made me a crown out of a torn newspaper and crowned me 'Scandal Queen'. Dad broke out his ukulele and serenaded Mom with some truly terrible lyrics he made up on the spot. Mom stumbled around to all of us to make sure we all knew that she 'never does this' and 'is usually much more put together'. By the late afternoon, we had all coupled up in various places across the room. My parents were snuggled up together on the couch, Liir and Trism held hands over our chess board in the midst of an enamored heart to heart, and Zyaire and I found ourselves engaged in a stumbly slow dance, hanging on to each other as we clumsily swayed to the phonograph music.

"I haven't been drunk since college. This is the best newspaper party I've ever been to," Zyaire mumbled.

"I think they called it a Scandal Break Party," I corrected him, hooking my arm around his neck to keep my balance.

"Well, you are the Scandal Queen, you would know," he toyed with me, nodding towards the paper crown still miraculously on my head.

"Have we totally scared you off yet?" I slurred sweetly. "With our day drinking and frivolous castle living?"

"Not yet," he stated simply. "So…what are you going to do now that you're a free woman? You've got no fiancé to pull you down and now the whole Vinkus knows it…"

"I don't know…but this feels like a good start," I murmured. We slowly stilled our movement and met each other's eyes while maintaining our dance position.

"Should we be flirting so shamelessly in front of your family?" Zyaire asked uncertainly.

"We watched Liir and Trism make out earlier and my parents are in a cuddle puddle right now. I think I can get away with dancing with my boy—" I snapped my lips shut before I could get the full word out. I blushed and glanced up at Zyaire shyly, feeling that I had to ask him what I wanted to ask him before my whiskey courage wore off. "Zyaire, now that I'm officially a free woman like you said…can I call you my boyfriend?"

His shoulders subtly stiffened and, as if his senses were delayed, he did not answer right away. His eyes flicked up towards the paper crown atop my head for just a moment, but then…his eyes met with mine once more. I watched as his brow softened, his shoulders relaxed, and a gentle smile returned to his face.

"Ask me in Vinkun," he requested.

"Ar būsi mano vaikinas?" I granted with an expectant smile. _(Will you be my boyfriend?)_

"Yes, Poppy. I will."

"Hey everybody! Zyaire is officially my boyfriend!" I screamed happily to the rest of the room as loud as I could. Liir and Trism immediately began clapping their hands as they hooted and hollered our way.

"I thought he already was!" Dad shouted from the couch in a confusified voice. "Oz, I can't keep up."

Mom was asleep.

"Watch out, Zyaire. According to the papers she's a pitiless heartbreaker!" Trism warned loudly.

Zyaire just looked back to me with a meaningful expression, adjusted my paper crown, and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I'll risk it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you everybody for getting this story past 100 hits! We are nearly at the halfway mark of the story. If you are enjoying it so far, kudos and comments make my day! Keep an eye out for regular updates and enjoy the rest of the story.


	15. The "Public" Nuisance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Detailed description of a Panic Attack / Verbal harassment/ Derogatory language/Slut shaming / Trauma flashback (sexual assault) / Alcohol use (mention)
> 
> *Some content in this chapter may be disturbing for some readers. Please note the content advisories and read with caution.

◈ **Chapter 15: The “Public” Nuisance** ◈

Clandestine meetings had their charm. There was a novelty to stealthily ushering Zyaire through the castle gates and swiftly ducking into the repair shop storefront so that people would not catch wind of our daily rendezvous. However, Zyaire and I had grown more impatient to venture into public together ever since we defined our relationship. But…that was easier said than done. If I was seen with a new person so soon after leaving Royce, I feared that people might think that I had been having an affair. That was false, of course, but while there had technically been no overlap, I _had_ moved on quite quickly which didn’t look good for me. Then, there was the matter of preparing Zyaire to be thrust into the public eye.

“Being seen with me as a friend is one thing, but once they realize we’re dating? It’s a whole other kind of attention,” I warned.

His apartment above the repair shop had become our lover’s hideaway. On the evening of Valentine’s Day, I sat on a countertop in his impossibly small kitchen as he attempted to make pasta for us since we were unable to dine out.

“I’m aware of that,” Zyaire said, stirring the sauce with a wooden spoon.

“No, you’re not. It won’t be just from the papers; it’ll be from citizens too. Random citizens! You’d be amazed at what total strangers feel comfortable bringing up to you on the street. People might even start getting curious about the shop itself. Suddenly, your business is _their_ business—”

“Well maybe it’ll be _good_ for business,” he chuckled.

“Zyaire—”

“Try this,” he requested, holding up the wooden sauce spoon. I tasted it and did a poor job of hiding my immediate grimace.

“That bad?” he asked.

“Oh no, it’s just…yeah it’s really bad,” I confirmed regretfully.

“I forgot to tell you that I don’t know how to cook,” he shrugged, putting the spoon back in the sauce.

“Zyaire, I’m serious. If you and I go public…everything is going to change,” I said uneasily.

He finally looked at me and moved to stand in front of where I was sitting on the counter. He gently placed his hands on my waist and met my eyes.

“I know everything is going to change. Dad and Great Grandmother understand too. They accept the risk and so do I,” he said in a firm yet affectionate tone.

I took a deep breath as I studied his eyes. He seemed sure.

“Okay,” I relented softly, placing my hand on the back of his neck. “If you’re sure, then…then let’s go shove it in their faces.”

“Let’s shove it in their faces,” he agreed. Our lips met in a long-lasting kiss that only ended when we realized smoke was filling the kitchen.

“Maybe we should—” I began to say.

“Yeah, let’s order food,” Zyaire agreed quickly, turning off the burner and moving to take care of the now burning pot of sauce.

We spent the rest of the romantic holiday cuddling on his bed and taking turns drinking red wine straight from the bottle as we played truth or dare. Our peaceful night of privacy had been the perfect send off to our life in hiding. It was the best Valentine’s Day I’d ever had. Come tomorrow I’d have to start sharing Zyaire Andris with the rest of the world, but just for that evening, he was all mine.

◈◈◈

We went public in baby steps. At first, we just allowed ourselves to be seen together more and more, venturing about Vilnius together almost on a daily basis. That in itself was enough for people to begin to wonder. We then began inconspicuously holding hands under café tables, in crowds, and as we came and went from shops. The darting glances and whispers predictably increased, as if the townspeople were in a competition to see who could gather the most evidence. It was when we finally shared our first subtle kiss on the lips in the town square that people considered their suspicions officially confirmed. By the next day, all of Vilnius seemed to know the name Zyaire Andris of the Andris Repair Shop, the shop boy who was apparently courting Princess Poppy.

Throughout the wintery weeks that followed, Zyaire and I adjusted to being in a relationship of renown. People embraced Zyaire differently than they did Royce, and opinions on him varied depending on who you asked…or _didn’t_ ask. The wealthy and affluent Royce Runcorn who, similarly to me, thrived on attention, seemed a logical, if not uninspiring, match for me. However, Zyaire was, for lack of better phrasing, a nobody. Some were aghast, others confusified, but some even seemed a little _excited_ that one of their own had managed to win the heart of their princess.

I admired Zyaire who, though obviously not as accustomed to attention as I, seemed to take our new lifestyle in stride. He even appeared to walk a bit taller when we strolled about town hand in hand. People did say things to us, people did stare, and a stealthy picture of us even made it into the newspaper. I cut out the article and gave it to him as a gift.

“ _Princess Poppy Tigelaar (22) Seen About Town with Mysterious New Beau,”_ I read aloud. “Well, it’s not the front page, but you’ll get there.”

Despite now having all of Vilnius to explore, just as it had happened that first summer, our favorite place to spend time together still ended up being none other than the Andris Repair Shop.

I clicked instantly with Katarzyna, whose gregarious and optimistic frame of mind was the perfect contrast to her husband’s diffident demeanor. She had coppery reddish-brown skin, a thick sheet of long black hair, and graceful age lines forged from decades of uninhibited grins and laughter. As she whiled away the hours trying new shades of brightly colored nail polish and living for mindless gossip, a case could be made that she spent a great deal of time with her head in the clouds. However, her blissfully oblivious nature seemed only to add to her contagious charm. I loved her. 

“If I were young and beautiful like the two of you, I’d go dance and be merry. I can’t think of why you’d tie yourselves up with us all day,” she conferred with me pleasantly one afternoon as she absent-mindedly rolled a loose broom bristle between her thumb and forefinger.

I just shrugged in response as I watched Zyaire fail miserably in his attempts to swat at a fly that had been pestering us all afternoon.

“What can I say? I love it here.”

“Tu esi gražus…” I overheard Ike mutter to his wife as he hunched over a repair project. _(You are beautiful…)_

One afternoon, Ike and Katarzyna made the dreadful mistake of letting Zyaire and I watch the shop for half an hour while they ran an errand. Great Grandmother Alusia had stayed home that day so it was just the two of us. As Zyaire wiped things down from behind the counter, I approached him and obnoxiously rang the bell they put out for customers.

“Excuse me, sir? Excuse me! There’s something in need of repair. Sir?” I called annoyingly, still relentlessly ringing the bell. He turned around and rolled his sleeves up before slowly sliding the bell out of my reach and crossing his arms over the counter.

“What can I do for you, Miss?” he said in a voice that could only be described as sultry sarcasm.

I offered a coy smile and leaned over the opposite side of the counter. “Yes…I’m afraid my heart is broken, is that something you can help me with?” I flirted shamelessly.

He nodded, leaning in further still so that our lips were almost touching.

“Oh, definitely. I can fix that.”

We captured each other’s lips in a provocative kiss over the counter. Despite our goofy roleplay, I found the moment to be quite arousing. Reassured by our privacy, I deepened the kiss, going so far as to gently bite down on his lower lip. If we hadn’t been in charge of the shop, I might have even insisted that we head upstairs…

“Atleisk!” a shrill voice called out of nowhere. _(Pardon!)_

Zyaire and I broke apart immediately and straightened up to see an older woman, most likely in her sixties, standing near the entrance with an exceptionally displeased look. My face reddened and I stepped away from the counter hurriedly. We must have been too distracted to hear her enter; I hadn’t even heard the bell on the door ring. Though we had disturbed countless customers with our rascality in the past, we had never been caught in such a sensual shop shenanigan.

“Welcome—Sveiki,” I greeted breathlessly, straightening out my clothes.

“How can we help you?” Zyaire added quickly, rubbing the back of his head abashedly.

“Yeah—uh—Kaip mes galime jums padėti?” I translated. _(How can we help you?)_

But the woman did not answer, she simply leered directly at me with a look of disgust and rage that caught me off guard.

“Kaip neprofesionalu! Kaip nepriimtina, princese,” she spat. _(How unprofessional! How unacceptable, princess.)_

My eyebrows shot up at her undaunted statement and I was too thrown to bother translating for Zyaire. “ _Atsiprašau_?” I responded in an offended tone. _(I’m sorry?)_

“Viešojoje parduotuvėje! Tai bjaurus elgesys mūsų princesė. Jums turėtų būti gėda save,” she berated in an irate tone. _(In a public shop! This is disgusting behavior for our princess. You should be ashamed of yourself.)_

“Kas tu manai esąs?!” I snapped, glaring fiercely at her. _(Who do you think you are?)_

“What is happening—” I heard Zyaire’s confused voice from behind the counter.

“Buvimas karališkosios šeimos nariu anksčiau buvo garbė. Anksčiau jie turėjo _manierų_. Dabar pažvelk į princesę, kurią glosto parduotuvės berniukas!” she scolded viciously. _(Being a member of the royal family used to be an honor. They used to have manners. Now look at the princess being fondled by the shop boy.)_

“Poppy what’s going on—”

She advanced towards me unnervingly. She was much shorter than I, but the hatred in her eyes made up for it.

“Aš girdžiu ką jie sako apie tave. Kojas išskleisite bet kam. Dabar aš pats galiu tuo įsitikinti!” she hissed scathingly. _(I hear what they have to say about you. You will spread your legs to anyone. Now I can see for myself!)_

“IŠEIK! Kaip išdrįsi negerbti būsimos karalienės!” I shouted, chaotically boiling over at her hateful words. _(GET OUT! How dare you disrespect the future queen!)_

“Jei Aš laimingas, aš būsiu miręs prieš matau purvinas kekše karūnuotas karalienė,” she seethed. ( _If I'm lucky, I'll be dead before I see a dirty whore crowned queen.)_

Then, taking a half step my way, she quite literally spit on the ground towards my feet.

“Get out of here right now!” Zyaire roared suddenly. “Get the hell out of this shop!”

I barely heard him.

Kekše. Whore.

“ _Kekše_?” I wheezed.

Dirty whore.

“Jūs niekšinga moteris! Nesu kekše! Nesu kekše,” I yelled hoarsely in the woman’s direction as she turned on her heel to leave. “Aš ne! _Aš ne!”_ _(You are a vile woman! I'm not a whore! I'm not a whore. I’m not!_ I’m not _!)_

The woman had left, but as if I were watching and listening as a bystander, I heard as my voice continued to yell after her until my throat was raw. My body and mind stopped operating within my control. My heartrate accelerated into an erratic, rapid, painful pace. My throat went dry and I clutched at my hair with violently quaking hands. My breath started coming in aching, short gasps. My chest throbbed and I heard a cacophony of my own high-pitched, frantic inhales which all came without the release of a following exhale. As my body waged its war, I was subjected to disturbing images that played in my mind’s eye like a traumatic picture show. _Lips smashing against mine without warning. Hands grabbing at my body. Demoralizing accusations of blame._ _Kekše_.

“Concentrate on your breathing…”

He came into the line of view of my disjointed vision. I hadn’t realized I was crying, but sure enough, flustered, overwhelmed sobs were now ebbing through my body. 

“Nesu kekše,” I coughed. _(I’m not a whore.)_

“Breathe with me…in and out...” his soothing voice instructed. I closed my eyes and tried to listen.

“In…”

I took a raspy breath in through my mouth.

“Out…”

With terrific difficulty, I finally achieved a shallow exhale.

“Great job. You’re going to get through this,” he promised softly. “Let’s take another breath…”

Just as before, with tremendous focus, I inhaled and exhaled unevenly.

“That’s it, Poppy. Keep it up. You’re in the repair shop, I am here, you are safe. Now again…”

I nodded numbly and through his gentle coaching we slowly breathed together, in and out, for what felt like several hours. I felt myself gradually sliding back to earth after my distressed state had trapped me way up high. Slowly and shakily, I realized that I could breathe on my own once more. I had reclaimed control of my mind…I had reclaimed control of my body.

“You did it, you got through it,” Zyaire encouraged softly as reality returned. “Do you want to be held right now?”

I instinctively shook my head no. It was unlike me to refuse, but I felt a bit raw after what had just happened to me and the last thing that I wanted was to be touched by anyone. 

“Understood,” he confirmed without a hint of resentment. “I am going to turn the shop sign to closed and then I’ll come back here and we will go upstairs. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes,” I muttered hoarsely.

He did just as he said he would. He turned the sign around and locked the door before deftly guiding me up the crooked staircase. We ended up in his room and I sat on the edge of his bed while he fetched me some water.

“What just happened to me?” I mumbled exhaustedly as I accepted the glass.

“I think that you were having a panic attack,” he informed me sensitively.

I thought about it for a moment. It had felt completely awful. I could only think of one other time that I had gone through anything similar…my sixteenth birthday. I had done my best to forget the details of that night, but I could never forget the panic, the sobbing, the lack of control I felt.

“How did you know what to do?” I muttered, unable to look at him directly.

“My college roommate used to get them pretty often…” he explained.

I just nodded set the glass aside on his bedside table with a still tremoring hand.

“Poppy…I don’t know what she was telling you, but I know it was upsetting. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…but I’m here if you do.”

He held his hand out to me, palm side up, as an open invitation that I was free to accept or deny. I hesitated for a moment before carefully taking his hand and lacing his fingers with mine.

“She uh…she had a problem with us kissing,” I explained, my voice sounding croaky and unsteady. “She didn’t think the princess should be acting such a way in public…she thought it was shameful. She told me…she called me—”

But the word got stuck in my throat.

“Whatever she said about you, it isn’t true,” Zyaire assured me softly.

I wasn’t sure that I could believe that anymore. After all, the truth wasn’t a thing of fact or reason. It was simply what everyone agreed on. It certainly seemed as if people had reached a consensus on how I was to be viewed. Different situations, different people, different words. Same conclusion. I had never felt less control over who I was…over what my _story_ was.

“She called me a whore,” I muttered disgracefully. “No, I’m sorry. She told me that she hoped she died before a dirty whore was crowned queen.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” Zyaire asserted, shaking his head emphatically.

“Oh, I don’t know…” I laughed humorlessly. I stood up off the bed and took a few steps away with my back towards him. “It’s not like I wasn’t throwing myself at you down there. Besides, it’s not just her. People call me things…things _happen_ to me…”

“What things happen?” he asked in a hushed tone filled with such worry it damn near broke my heart.

In that moment, telling Zyaire felt like a risk. I feared that this secret may have the power to shatter his illusion of me and make him see me for what I really was. What if he saw what everyone else saw in me? What if he agreed on that version of the truth?

“If you knew everything, you’d feel differently about me—” I fretted, turning to face him.

“Poppy I could never—”

“But it’s not like I want these things to happen, you know?” I insisted raggedly. Risky or not, my secrets, my experiences, began bubbling to the surface. Now that I had started talking, I could not stop. “I _don’t_ ask for it.”

“Hey—”

“I didn’t ask Royce to force a goodbye kiss on me.” _Hussy_.

“I didn’t ask all of those teenage boys from my friend group to keep score on how many of them could kiss me.” _Tramp_.

“I didn’t ask for Councilman Liudvakas to try and touch me when I was seventeen and then _threaten_ me not to tell anyone.” _Whore_.

“And even though I flirted, even though I kissed him back, even though I asked him up to my room…I really— _really_ didn’t ask to be assaulted during my own sixteenth birthday party,” I affirmed, my voice cracking at the end. _Slut_.

I had never said it out loud. That I was assaulted. That’s what happened, though. I knew it was. I felt peculiar, as if the unpleasant epiphany may cause me to float away, lost and aimless, until I was high above the chimney tops. Unanchored and astray, I moved my eyes to send Zyaire a desperate look. A grief-stricken expression was etched into his kind features as he stood at a distance, allowing me ample space to drift.

But I did not want to drift. 

“Zyaire…” I mumbled over a lump in my throat as I searched for a tether. “Is it…is it too late to be held?”

“Never,” he whispered urgently, immediately answering my call by closing the space between us and pulling me tightly into his arms before I could float too far.

As I buried my face into his shoulder and I wrapped my arms around him, I felt the haven of solid ground once more. Zyaire rubbed my back, stroked my hair, and said nothing. He didn’t loosen his grip, try to kiss me, or even try to look at my face.

“I’m so sorry, Poppy. I had no idea,” he murmured finally. “It’s _not_ your fault. You didn’t deserve any of that. It’s not your fault.”

Even now that I was his girlfriend, he never acted entitled to my body. He only held me, kissed me, or touched me when I allowed him to. He acquired permission, respected my boundaries, and he treated me with care. He always had. Why was that such a rare quality?

“There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me think less of you. Do you believe me?” he asked softly.

“I believe you…” I whispered.

I did believe him, and the growing depth of our feelings for one another both thrilled and frightened me. But regardless of the reticence, I allowed myself to be held by him, I allowed myself to be vulnerable…and I allowed myself to trust Zyaire Andris.

We did not go back downstairs for the rest of the evening, not even to tell Ike and Katarzyna why we had closed up shop. We stayed in our lover’s hideaway to recover as we entertained each other with calming activities. He read me short stories from one of his favorite books, we swapped tales from our very different childhoods, and I taught him some simple Vinkun phrases. As we studied, I’d reward him with kisses if he pronounced things right.

“Dėkojame, kad pasirinkote mūsų verslą…” I sounded out for him. “Thank you for choosing our business.”

“Dėkojame, kad…pasireenkote moosų varslą?” he repeated poorly.

“Okay let’s try a different one…Poppy, you look very cute today. Poppy, tu šiandien atrodai labai miela.”

“Poppy…tu šiandien atrodai labai miela,” he repeated with a bright laugh.

“Excellent,” I grinned, granting him a sweet kiss as promised.

“I have a feeling I’ll be using that one a lot.”

Night fell and before too long it was much later than I had intended to stay. I dreaded the idea of leaving, and I also didn’t feel entirely comfortable walking home in the dark. I knew that he would gladly escort me, but I had a better idea.

“Is it okay if I spend the night?” I asked him.

“Let’s see, read a geology book until I fall asleep alone or spend the night with my gorgeous girlfriend…that’s a tough one…”

I washed away what little makeup I hadn’t already cried off, tied my hair up into a messy bun, and dressed in clothes Zyaire had leant me to sleep in. It was a pair of pajama pants and an oversized Emerald University t-shirt which, as his girlfriend, I informed him that I had the right to steal. He was already under the covers when I reentered the room from the bathroom.

“Ta da,” I presented myself with a faintly nervous laugh. Zyaire, saying nothing at first, simply turned his head to stare at me with a wistful smile.

“What? What are you looking at?” I asked, trying to shoo away self-conscious feelings about my bare face and frizzy hair.

“Poppy…tu šiandien atrodai labai miela,” he sighed, repeating the phrase from earlier with improved accuracy. _(Poppy…you look very cute today.)_

Unlike the only other night I had slept here where we had passed out after a night of passion, there was something stirringly intimate about observing each other’s habits and routines, sharing a bed, and seeing the other with no frills or trappings.

I joined him in bed as he took off his glasses and turned out the lamp on his bedside table. He opened his arms to me and I accepted his embrace readily, resting my head on his chest and snuggling into his side with a relaxed sigh. He pressed a long kiss to the top of my hair and we both closed our eyes. I could feel his heart beating.

“Goodnight, Poppy…labanakt…” he drowsily mumbled the Vinkun word for goodnight.

“Goodnight, Zyaire. I love you.”

It had slipped out so seamlessly, without a second thought, as if I had said it thousands of times before. It had felt so free, so normal—so _right_ —that for a clock-tick I had almost missed the fact that I had said it at all. For a long moment, there was silence, but the three words hung heavily in the air between us, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Did I just say that out loud?” I whispered, at last tilting my head up to lock eyes with Zyaire.

“Yeah…you did…”

Well…as long as the secret was out.

“Um—I didn’t plan on telling you that just then but…I do,” I confessed in a tremulous whisper, having never felt quite so scared to admit something in all my life. “And listen, you don’t need to say anything back—”

“I love you too.”

We wordlessly gazed at each other as his response sunk in before my face split into a resplendent smile. Zyaire loved me. An unseen but powerfully felt aura swept through me and extended out towards him, immersing the two of us in a safe, secret bubble. It became laughably obvious to me that I had never been in love before now. I had said ‘I love you’ in a romantic context to Royce many times, but I had not meant it, not once. I had never honestly said nor felt those words until mere moments before when they spilled out of my mouth and into Zyaire and I’s shared world as naturally as breathing.

“Well…I guess I have to teach you another phrase, then,” I whispered to my love. “I love you, Zyaire. Aš tave myliu.”

“I love you, Poppy. Aš tave myliu.”

Then, just as I had done before to reward a beautifully-spoken phrase, I pulled him into a deep and lasting kiss.


	16. Princess Poppy's Story Corner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Sex (mention) / Poverty/Class Inequality (mention) / Implied Classism

◈ **Chapter 16: Princess Poppy's Story Corner** ◈

I had been in a relationship that lasted years, I had been engaged to be married, but as winter melted into spring in Vilnius, I found myself vividly experiencing the joys and pangs of my first ever _love_. While I had always enjoyed spring time in Vilnius, it seemed so much more beautiful now, as if the trees were blooming as a result of my own mad delight.

Zyaire and I became _inseparable_. The way I felt about him and the way I could tell he felt about me was all consuming. There were times that it almost physically hurt to be apart from him. I started spending nights at his apartment more and more, and nights that I didn't spend with him were agonizingly lonely.

Then, there was the sex. I couldn't believe how much better sex was when you were in love. Sleeping with Royce hadn't been unpleasant but it had been the same _all the time_. It had begun to feel like a thoroughly rehearsed routine. Predictable, detached, _boring_. But not with Zyaire. The way we handled each other was adventurous and exciting yet also intimate and caring. I'd find myself blushing in embarrassed bliss any time I'd privately recall any details of our shared nights.

Days that we weren't able to see each other at all were practically torture, and unfortunately, they seemed to be happening more often as work increased throughout the spring. As devoted as I was to my work, my job started cutting into my repair shop time, my _Zyaire_ time, which didn't please me at all. One spring afternoon in the middle of a very hectic week, I was surprised to find Zyaire approaching the castle gates as Mom and I were leaving to head towards town.

"Zyaire, what are you doing here?" I asked, dashing to embrace him as if he had just returned from war. It had been two days since I had seen him, after all.

"I'm sorry for popping in like this. I just wanted to drop off that book you were asking about and…I also may have been curious if you had a free hour or two…" he admitted sheepishly. I suspected as much, since he was not holding a book.

"Oh…Oz I wish I was free but Mom and I are heading to the tutoring center…" I explained disappointedly. "We won't be done for a few hours."

"That's okay, I know you're busy," he said quickly, though I could tell he was as disappointed as I was.

"It was so sweet of you to come all the way up here…"

"It's no big deal, I was just missing you—"

"I've missed you too!" I lamented.

"Well, just have him come along with us if you're going to be so dramatic about it!" Mom suggested bluntly, glancing at the slim watch on her wrist.

"Really?"

"Yes, but we need to leave now because we're running behind. Come along, love birds," she said before muttering to herself as she charged ahead. "Oz, and she says that _Fiyero_ and I are sickening."

Zyaire and I shared a look before quickly clasping hands and following her without question. As we walked, I told Zyaire a little bit about the tutoring center we were headed towards.

There was a high adult illiteracy rate in Vilnius due to the fact that a lot of impoverished families, too many, couldn't afford to send their children to school. Mom despised the educational system in The Vinkus, and the rest of Oz for that matter. She had ambitious goals to make schooling free for everyone, but it was impossible for that to happen overnight, so her short-term solution had been to establish a center in which volunteers provided free lessons and tutoring to students of any age. ' _It's a start'_ , she would say, though I knew she was impatient to make greater change. The fact that many wealthy families who _could_ afford to educate their children were furious about the center was _'just an added bonus'_ , as Mom would say.

The center itself was in a large hall that used to be a packaging warehouse. Mom scouted the location herself and, after some pushback from the council, secured funding to convert it into a makeshift school. Inside were desks and long tables that were always set up in different configurations throughout the space, as well as several multi-purpose rolling chalkboards that the volunteers shared. There were shelves containing various supplies, a bulletin board used to post class offerings and schedules, a handful of private study rooms, and a small upper-level library with cases packed with books in both Ozian and Vinkun for every reading level.

Mom came around at least twice a week, sometimes more, to provide her own teaching services. She typically worked in small groups of older teenagers or adults and taught a variety of subjects based on what was needed. History was her personal favorite. She frequented the center often enough that the shock of having the queen visit had mostly worn off. Here, she wasn't Queen Tigelaar. She was Miss Elphaba, a tutor who, while strict and sometimes downright intimidating, believed in her students and got results. After college, I started joining her about every other week.

"So, what do you do while you're here?" Zyaire asked me curiously as Mom headed over to get started with her group.

"I'll show you, come on!" I grinned. I led him further into the hall until we reached a section that had vibrant plastic chairs, blocks, and large colorful carpets. Sitting at their tiny, crayon graffitied desks were about a dozen four to seven-year-old children learning how to write.

"Miss Chambers, may I steal these troublemakers for a bit?" I asked. Miss Chambers, the regular tutor for the little ones, looked up at me with a relieved expression as she blew a strand of graying hair out of her eyes.

"They're all yours, Poppy. I'm going to take a break," she said wearily as she stood up and stretched her sore back. Dramatic gasps filled the air and Zyaire had to step out of the way as I was suddenly swarmed by a gaggle of eager kids.

"Poppy's here!"

"Miss Poppy!"

"Miss Poppy, pametiau dantį!" said one boy, showing me a gap in his teeth as he hugged my waist. _(Miss Poppy, I lost a tooth!)_

"Matau, kad!" I replied, returning his hug. _(I see that!)_

"Miss Poppy, gavau naujus batus!" said a girl, jumping on one leg to show her new strap on shoes. _(Miss Poppy, I got new shoes!)_

"Ir kaip stilinga!" I gasped. _(Oh, how stylish!)_

"Klasė yra nuobodi!" one boy complained. _(Class is boring!)_

"Tai labai blogai," I responded to him putting my hands on my hips. _(That's too bad.)_

"Miss Poppy who is that?" one girl pointed straight at Zyaire.

"I'm glad you asked, Zophia. This is my good friend, Zyaire," I said. "I also think if we ask him really, really nicely, he might come join us for our story time. Do you think he might join us?"

The kids all cheered at once, nodding their heads and pleading with Zyaire. I flashed him an evil smile over the crowd of bobbing heads.

"Alright let's head to vaizduotės kampelis! The corner of imagination!" I announced excitedly.

Two of the kids grabbed my hands as we strolled to the story corner and one girl took Zyaire's hand, animatedly speaking to him in Vinkun as she dragged him along. What we called our "vaizduotės kampelis" was in the corner of the hall near the main entrance. It had a rocking chair, a huge carpet with a colorful map of The Vinkus on it, and a bookshelf stocked with many picture books for young readers. _(Corner of Imagination)_

"Gotzon, can you pull out the sign please? Ačiū," I asked one of the boys. He went and pulled out a sign from behind the bookcase and I set it by my rocking chair. It read ' _Princess Poppy's Story Corner'_ with big fancy letters and glitter. I made it myself. I loved crafting.

"Sėsk prie manes!" the little girl who had been pulling Zyaire along demanded. _(Sit by me!)_

Though he surely didn't understand her, he did as he was told and sat cross-legged on the carpet along with the other kids.

"What do you think, my friends?" I asked them. "Should we read in Vinkun or Ozian first?"

They all shouted different things and it seemed like a pretty even vote.

"Let's start with a _Vinkun_ story," I decided, leaning over to the bookshelf to pluck a book out. "This is a great one."

"Seniai šioje vietoje…" I read in a theatrical voice, holding the book out for them to see the pictures. _(Long ago in this land…)_

It was a tale about a young maiden named Wenna who lived in a cave far away from everyone else. She was very lonely, but one day, she was visited by a young man who stumbled upon her home. His name was Morwen. Wenna and Morwen became best friends and set off on a journey together in search of great treasure. They made a solemn promise to share whatever they found with each other. However, the two friends soon got separated in the woods! While lost, Morwen discovered a beautiful tiara in the forest. A Bear approached and said that if he gave him the tiara, he'd ensure that Morwen became a very rich man.

"O kaip tas lokys skambėjo?" I prompted the kids. _(And what did that bear sound like?)_

They bust out into their loudest Bear growls as they showed their scary claws. The little girl sitting beside Zyaire did her growl right up at him and he got startled for real. I stifled a laugh before continuing.

Remembering their promise to find treasure _together_ , Morwen refused to give the tiara to the Bear despite the riches he was promised. He kept walking, searching for Wenna.

"' _Tai mano draugui!' pasakė_ _Morwen_ ," I read aloud. _(That's for my friend, Morwen said.)_

He then encountered a Snake who said that if he gave him the tiara, he'd ensure that Morwen became a very famous man.

"SSSSSSSSSSssssssssss!" the kids hissed after I prompted them. Zyaire was laughing now at their reactions as they interacted with the story.

Morwen said no again. "' _Tai mano draugui!' pasakė_ _Morwen_ ," I read. "Can you all say that?" The kids all repeated the phrase after me enthusiastically. _That's for my friend_!

Morwen then encountered a witch in his path who said that if he gave her the tiara, she'd ensure that Morwen became a very powerful man.

"Can you guess what he told her?" I prompted the kids.

"Tai mano draugui!" they all chanted.

"That's right! He kept his promise to Wenna," I recapped.

Morwen reunited with Wenna at last and they both left the woods. He gave her the tiara he found and told her that he had been keeping it safe for her. She began to cry because she recognized it as a long-lost family heirloom. She revealed that she was actually a princess and, long ago, she took the tiara without permission and accidentally lost it in the woods. Too afraid to return home without it, she hid out for many years in the cave all alone. Wenna returned home to her family after many years away and they rejoicified to have her back. When asked why Morwen did not give away the tiara even after being offered so many fine things, he said that if he had done so, he may have lost the most _important_ thing.

"Draugystė yra svarbiausia," I read. "Friendship is most important."

I chanced a glance at Zyaire who happened to be looking at me with a gaze filled with such adoration that I had to turn my attention back to the book before I got too distracted by my butterflies.

Wenna and Morwen soon fell in love and were married. Morwen became a prince and got everything he had once been tempted with in the woods. Wealth, renown, and power. But it was the friendship and love he shared with Wenna that he saw as the real treasure all along.

"Pabaiga," I concluded. "The End."

The kids immediately burst into conversations about what they liked about the story, what they didn't like about the story, and what they thought was scary, funny, or sad. I put the book away and walked over to kneel beside the little girl who was still chattering away to Zyaire.

"Carlijn? Ar galiu su juo pasikalbėti?" I asked politely, nodding to Zyaire. _(Carlijn? Can I talk to him?)_

She pouted for a moment before going over to talk to another friend about the story.

"I see you made a new friend," I commented as I took Zyaire's hands to help him to his feet.

"I guess so. Though I can't understand a word she says," he laughed. "You're good with them, Poppy. They're obsessed with you."

"They're fun kids," I shrugged. "Mom can't stand the little ones, but they're my favorite. We usually let them take a quick breather and then we talk about the book and read another. I promise I'll read an Ozian book next."

"I caught bits and pieces," he bragged. "Maybe if I study hard enough, I can understand an entire children's book."

I felt a tugging on my dress and I looked down to see Zofia who, upon getting my attention, immediately pointed up to Zyaire.

"Is that your boyfriend?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes, sweetheart," I laughed loudly. "Yes, he is."

"Ewww!" she shrieked loudly through mad giggles.

"Miss Poppy has a boyfriend! Miss Poppy has a boyfriend!" she announced to some of the other kids who also started giggling and sticking their tongues out in disgust.

"Do you think I'll be welcomed back to Princess Poppy's Story Time?" Zyaire asked.

"I don't know, it's a—hey, nuh-uh! Put it _down,_ Gotzon. Idėti jį žemyn," I paused to admonished a student.

"Why should I?" Gotzon back-sassed.

"Because I'm the princess, _duh_!" I pointed to the sign. "Plus, I'm taller than you. What I say goes."

Gotzon rolled his eyes but stopped what he was doing and I looked back to Zyaire to answer his question from before. "I don't know, it's a very exclusive club after all."

Zyaire just stared at me with a fond expression and sighed softly. "You're amazing, you know…"

I smiled softly and was about to respond in kind, but I got distracted upon noticing someone walking through the front door.

"Why is Kirkan here?" I asked with a frown.

We came here so often that we almost never had sentries accompany us. He strode urgently towards my mother who was teaching a group of teenagers at a table in the back. He leaned down to whisper something into her ear and even from across the room I could see her face grow quite grim. She stood at once and began walking our way with a matched urgency to Kirkan who was in a lockstep beside her.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked as she approached. She leaned in and murmured in a low voice so only Zyaire and I could hear.

"Something serious has happened and it's safest that we return to the castle. Get your things, we're leaving at once," she said, calmly but urgently. My heart started racing with anxiety but I just turned to the group of kids with an easy expression.

"Alright kids, that's a wrap on story time for today! Time to head back to Miss Chambers."

They immediately protested. "We only got one story!" one of them yelled.

"I know, I know. I'll read an extra one next time, how's that? Goodbye for now, my friends."

Kirkan then ushered the three of us out onto the street where two more sentries were standing by to escort us home. Zyaire asked if he should return home or accompany us. Mom told him to come along with us…'just in case'.

I had no idea what had happened, but I knew that it couldn't be good.


	17. The Tigelaar Tapestry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Terrorism // Unnamed character death(s) (mention) // Gun violence (mention) // Hate motivated violence (of a fictional demographic) (mention) // Assassination (mention) // Attempted murder of a child (mention) // Parental death (mention) // Kidnapping (mention) // War (mention) // Classism // Family conflict // Microaggressions

◈ **Chapter 17: The Tigelaar Tapestry** ◈

We walked with the sentries in near silence the entire way back. They wouldn’t discuss whatever the matter was, nor would Mom. Her lips were pursed in a tight-lipped frown, but I detected worry behind her eyes. When we arrived at the castle the gates were closed and promptly locked behind us.

We were ushered directly into the council room to the left of the foyer the moment we stepped inside. Inside the room was an official that didn’t belong to our staff who looked to be a captain of sorts and my father who was sitting at the table. The official appeared to be briefing Dad on whatever the situation was. The way my father looked startled me. His eyes appeared bloodshot, his gray hairs more pronounced, and there was no trace of his usual happy-go-lucky smile. For maybe the first time in my life, he looked…old.

When Dad noticed us enter his shoulders visibly sagged with relief. Mom immediately went to sit at his side, took his hand, and brought it to her lips with an attentive look in her eye. I took a seat across the table from him and Zyaire uncomfortably sat beside me, saying nothing.

“Thank Oz you’re back,” Dad muttered to all of us as he squeezed Mom’s hand.

“What is happening?” I asked seriously.

“There’s been an attack in Kaiburg, the small town up north near Broken Bottle,” Dad explained grimly.

“What kind of attack?” I asked in a steady tone despite the chill that shot up my spine.

“An explosive went off earlier this day during a town hall meeting,” the unnamed official, who spoke in Ozian with a thick accent, answered for my father. “There are eight confirmed dead, many more injured. Among the dead are the Meras and his wife. We have every reason to believe it was a targeted attack on them.” _(Mayor)_

“Oh, how awful,” I gasped, shaking my head. Mom and Dad looked pale.

“What do we know of the assassin?” Mom inquired seriously.

“Witnesses confirm that it was a male suspect, mid-twenties to thirties. One thing we do know was that he was not native to here. We suspect he is either from Gillikin or The Emerald City and holds a strong prejudice towards Vinkuns. He has not yet been seized. We are unsure of his plans beyond this attack.”

“Are we in danger?” Mom asked calmly.

“It’s highly possible. We suspect that the assassin has plans to strike again, and the royal family would be a likely target.”

“Should I leave?” Zyaire asked in an anxious voice, fidgeting as if he were about to stand.

“You’re publicly associated with this family, we can’t be sure at this point, but you might be at risk as well. It’s best you stay until we know more,” Dad decided wearily.

I did not look to Zyaire, though my heart rate accelerated at the idea of him being in danger by association. I wanted to reassure him, but I could not sincerely do so until I had all of the information.

“We highly suggest that you and your family go on lockdown until the assassin is apprehended. We suspect that you may be the prime target, your majesty. You and your family,” the official informed Dad gravely. “I will give you time to discuss.”

As the official exited through the double doors of the council hall, a fearful silence stretched between the four of us. My parents and I glanced between each other’s eyes…plainly imagining the worst. An unseen threat lurked, waiting for us beyond these walls, bent on hurting our people. Hurting our family.

“We will summon Liir home at once. Trism too,” Mom stated firmly, snapping us out of our chilling spell as she stood from her chair and began pacing.

“Elphaba…he may be safer where he’s at…” Dad pointed out in a reasonable tone; standing as well.

“Fiyero, it’s common knowledge that the prince lives in The Emerald City. If there is even a small chance that the assassin is from there, who is to say they aren’t already looking for him?!” Mom retorted.

“He’s a grown man, Elphaba—”

“He’s our _kid_ ,” she said fiercely. “He has his tattoos, Fiyero. He is noticeably Vinkun. He’s holding those panels and meetings drawing attention to the fact he’s from here. He would be easy to spot, easy to _target_! But if he’s _home_ —”

“The threat is _in_ The Vinkus, Elphaba! It might be more dangerous for him to come home right now!” Dad argued.

“I can protect our children. Single-handedly, if I must. I’ve done it before—”

“Summon him home,” I agreed, standing up from my chair. “Mom is right, we should all be together.”

They both looked at me and then to each other. Mom might have appeared smug at my support were she not so frazzled.

“Very well…but we are sending a sentry to accompany them on their trip. I don’t want them traveling alone,” Dad sighed tensely, knowing that he was outnumbered.

He paused for a moment and looked down at the ground, slipping his hands into his pockets as he shook his head somberly.

“You know…I knew him, the Meras of Kaiburg. Not well, but we spoke several times whenever Vinkun leaders would conference. Poppy, he was a proud Locklimb Universitetas alumnus. Nice guy, funny, young too. He was barely older than I am…though I suppose I’m not quite so young anymore…” Dad sighed.

I cast my eyes downward. Dad wasn’t usually so subdued, it was hard to see him like this, but I knew how he was feeling. I was sure that Mom did too. As Tigelaars, it mattered not whether we knew the victims personally, they were our people, and any wrongful death on Vinkun soil was an attack on all of us.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” 

“It’s just a shame…” he shook his head. “I suppose I’ll need to prepare a speech…to inform Vilnius.”

Mom gave him a sudden, wild, disbelieving look.

“Fiyero, have you lost your brain!? We cannot give a public speech right now!” she said abruptly.

“Elphaba somebody has to announce the threat—it’s the king’s job to—”

“You heard what he said! You could be _targeted_!” she pointed towards the direction the official had exited.

“I’ll do it from here, we’ll have security all around. From the balcony they’ll be able to hear—”

“The balcony!? Fiyero, the _balcony_!?” Mom blurted out frantically. “Are you determined to make me a widow!?”

“Fae—”

“No! No. As your wife, I forbid it. You aren’t doing that to me again, you will not put yourself at risk. We will make sure Vilnius knows but you will _not_ make the speech. Promise me— _promise_ me—” her voice had changed from enraged to pleading in an instant as she began to falter.

Dad saw it too. He took both of her hands in his and pressed a long kiss to them as he looked her square in the eyes.

“You’re right, my Elphaba. You’re right. I won’t make a speech; I won’t go near the balcony. We’ll stay here where it’s safe until the threat passes. Yes?” Dad agreed softly.

Mom just pursed her lips and stared into his eyes before she at last nodded. “Yes.”

He took her face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Aš myliu tave amžinai, Fae.” _(I love you forever, Fae.)_

“So how _are_ we going to keep Vilnius safe?” I questioned rationally. “The Meras may have been the target, but citizens got hurt too. If we’re to be targeted, our people might be at risk as well.”

“She’s right…perhaps we should impose a temporary curfew. We won’t appear at gatherings in public, that’s a given, in case it gets targeted. In fact, we shouldn’t appear in public at all,” Dad thought aloud.

“Furthermore, Poppy, I will _not_ have you going to Zyaire’s place anymore until the threat is over,” Mom commanded stringently.

I tensed at the way she addressed me, like I was a _teenager_ rather than a grown woman, rather than a political head attempting to make decisions in the wake of a catastrophe. What was more, it was insultingly condescending that she thought I’d be so reckless with not only my own safety, but the safety of Zyaire and his family.

“Mother, I am an adult. I’m capable of making my own decisions. I am not a teenager that you can order—”

“I’m _not_ letting you risk going into town, I need to keep you safe—”

“I wasn’t planning on it! I’m not as brainless as you clearly think I am—”

“Hey—okay—” Zyaire said hurriedly, getting to his feet. “I think we all agree that Poppy should stay here. We can’t be too careful, right? Especially after that woman yelled at you in the repair shop that time—"

“Someone yelled at you in the shop!?” Mom blurted out. I pressed a hand to my forehead and cursed under my breath. I had not told Mom about that incident for a reason.

“It was nothing,” I groaned. “She just wanted to get under my skin.”

“You don’t know that it’s nothing! Tu turi mums pasakyti šiuos dalykus, _Poppy_!” Mom snapped at me furiously. _(You have to tell us these things, Poppy!)_

“Aš galiu pasirūpinti savimi!” I shouted. _(I can take care of myself!)_

Suddenly, I felt Zyaire’s hand on my shoulder. Ironically, I spotted that Dad had moved his hand to Mom’s shoulder as well. Mom and I both took a deep breath, still glaring at each other as we forced ourselves not to fly off the handle. Mom then glanced at Zyaire and spoke in an even tone.

“Zyaire, you may stay here until the lockdown is over, if you wish.”

He nodded and thanked her quietly. The four of us then simply stood quietly in the tense aftermath of my mother and I’s in tandem tantrum. It was only broken when the double doors burst open, admitting a dozen noisy councilmen and women. The decrepit, mean spirited, _unbearable_ Head Councilman Oren trudged in behind the horde of councilmembers with his cane.

“We’ve been briefed on the matter at hand,” Oren wheezed, taking his seat at the head of the table with great effort. “We have much to discuss.”

My parents and I had instinctively begun moving towards our usual spots at the table when Oren looked up and pointed a quivering finger at Zyaire.

“Who is this boy? Why is he here?” he inquired harshly.

“I’m—” Zyaire stuttered at once.

“He and I are seeing each other. He was with us when we got the news,” I addressed Oren directly.

Oren loathed me. Not that he had ever particularly liked me, or any of the Tigelaars, but I held a special place of contempt in his withered heart for firing half of the council on my first full day on the job. My one regret was that the royal family did not hold the authority to remove a _Head_ Councilperson from their position. Only death held that privilege, and Oren had been cheating that fate for years. 

“Princess Tigelaar, I don’t give a damn about who you are seeing at the moment. He is not authorized to be in council meetings!” Oren wheezed.

“I—” Zyaire stammered uncertainly.

“Son—there are important matters at hand, far too important for a part time _shop boy_ to listen in on!” Oren bellowed.

I opened my mouth, perhaps to argue with Oren, but then closed it with a defeated sigh. I really didn’t want to get into it with him. Not today, at least.

“It’s okay. I’ll stick around the castle—” Zyaire assured me with a dry voice. For just a clock-tick I caught a glimpse of his strained, troubled expression before he hurriedly escaped the room. The look in his eyes stuck with me, and I watched him go as a strange, uneasy feeling settled into my stomach. I turned back to Oren with a frustrated look and waved my hand his direction as if to say ‘start the meeting’.

“The floor is yours, sir,” I muttered bitterly, taking my seat beside my parents as we began our work.

◈◈◈

The meeting lasted for hours. We discussed matters surrounding the event such as getting the word out without causing a panic, implementing a curfew, arranging plans to fetch Liir from The City, restricting public appearances, and…memorial services. It was dreadful, the meeting itself, and hearing the stomach churning details of the attack. By the end of the meeting, I felt a bone-aching sorrow for the families of the victims.

Mom and Dad retreated to be alone together. I wasn’t sure where they went to, but they’d always hole up in a room together on difficult days and support each other however needed. My mind turned to Zyaire and, with those who had lost a loved one today in mind, I felt the need to be close to him. I wandered about the castle in search of him, passing staff members who were ensuring every window and door was locked, until I at last came upon an expansive room on the second floor.

The hall displayed a great number of official oil paintings depicting Tigelaars throughout the generations, as well as a floor to ceiling tapestry of our family tree hanging in prominence. It was here that I found Zyaire, staring up at said tapestry with an odd expression. I cleared my throat to announce my presence and he nearly leapt out of his skin in shock.

“Oz Poppy, you scared the life out of me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I responded lightly, glancing around the room with a pensive expression. “I see you found our tapestry room.”

His startled yelp still echoed faintly through the hall. The room had an eerie quality to it, but even so, I had always found it comforting to look upon the faces of my family.

“This room wasn’t always here. Dad repurposed this old storage room years ago, I think I was seven or eight at the time? We collected all of the paintings we could find of our ancestors and hung them here so we’d have them in one place. He also commissioned a local weaver to make the tapestry of our family tree as far back as we have records for…” I explained, gesturing around the room. “It took them over a year to finish.”

I wandered down the room a bit, reverently examining a few of my old favorite paintings.

“You know, when I was a kid, I used to come in here and pick out my favorite part of each painting. I always liked Ksena’s dress, Alusia’s tiara, and Celestyn’s ring,” I laughed faintly, pointing out the accessories I used to admire. 

“I can tell your dad put a lot of work into the room…” he mumbled; his eyes still glued to the tapestry.

“Well, he’s proud of this family and The Vinkus. And so am I,” I added softly. My mind shifted back to today’s tragedy and I crossed my arms with a downcast sigh.

“How are you feeling?” he asked hesitantly, finally turning to look at me.

“I’m…sad,” I confessed truthfully with a gloomy shrug. “I’m sad that this happened to our people.”

“Are you scared?” he asked quietly.

I thought about his query for a moment...was I scared? 

“No…I’m not. I’m not going to let someone filled with that much hate scare me. It’s him who should be afraid of _us_ ,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Besides, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened...” 

“It isn’t?” he asked in a dry voice.

I shook my head and walked back towards him. We stood shoulder to shoulder, peering up at the tapestry that stretched high over our heads.

“Before Liir and I were born, just a few months after Dad was crowned king, he was shot while giving a speech on the balcony. He survived, of course, and they caught the person, but it gave everyone quite a scare. Then there was the war…” I trailed off for a second. My parents almost always refused to talk about the war and they _never_ lingered on the topic for long, but I had pieced together most of the story throughout the years.

“Before I was born, we declared war on Fliaan after they burned down a village of ours. Dad enlisted, and from what I found out, he went missing in action. He was declared legally dead by the council and everything. Anyway, Mom held down the fort while he was off fighting, and one night the castle was ambushed by rebels. They intended to kill both Mom and Liir who was around one and a half at the time,” I recounted.

“Sweet Oz…” Zyaire exhaled sharply.

“Mom was determined to protect Liir…and I suppose she was determined to protect me too, in a way. She found out she was expecting me while Dad was off fighting, you see, and she was a few months along at the time. She apparently defended the castle single-handedly that night. She…won’t tell us exactly how she did it,” I skimmed the surface of the truth.

While it _was_ true that Mom refused to tell Liir or I the exact details, I was certain that it had something to do with her unique abilities and that strange book she wouldn’t ever let us go near. With her fearsome powers coupled with the motivation to defend her children, well, nobody in all of Oz could have outmatched her that night. But I wasn’t quite ready to tell Zyaire the full truth about Mom’s sorcery. I trusted him, of course, but I couldn’t _imagine_ what might happen if that information got into the wrong hands. Oz had a certain knack for twisting a story into something it wasn’t.

“It’s not just my parents, though. When Liir was about sixteen or seventeen, he got mixed up with the wrong group of boys. They got into trouble and tried to hold him for ransom…it was scary. Mom got him out of that mess too,” I recalled.

“And you?” Zyaire asked in a small voice.

“No one has ever made an attempt on my life. At least not yet…” I sighed. “When I was little there was an extremist campaign trying to convince people that I was not a true Tigelaar. A daughter had not been born to the Tigelaar family in so long that they thought I might not be legitimate. They made veiled threats towards me but never acted on them.”

Zyaire tilted his head down, closed his eyes, and took a huge breath.

“Not everyone is like your Great Grandmother Alusia, you know?” I mumbled, glancing his way. “Not everybody likes us…”

Zyaire looked up at the tapestry again as he shoved his hands in his pockets, as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it for too long. I frowned and tried to catch his eye, feeling strangely distant from him.

“So, The Vinkus hasn’t had a queen born until you, then?” he asked, craning his neck to squint higher up the family tree.

“Not since Illianora Tigelaar…see she’s way up there. She’s my great great great great great great _great_ grandmother, I guess,” I counted out loud, feeling a little out of breath by the end.

“But of course, The Vinkus is no stranger to strong queens, like my mom. But they all married into the role. In fact, Queen Celestyn, my great grandmother, was famously beloved by the people. They say she was a big believer of karma and destiny, things like that, and she was widely regarded as more courageous than her husband Irji,” I chuckled. I had always admired her, despite never having put much stock into fate myself. “Arranged marriages actually used to be the standard in this family. I think my grandparents may have been the first to break that tradition…here come see…”

I took his hand and led him to where a large oil painting of my paternal grandparents hung on the wall.

“That’s my Senelis Indigo and Bobutė Nyre. They married for love…in fact, Nyre was from Gillikin and it was controversial at the time to marry someone outside of The Vinkus. My grandparents broke a lot of rules,” I shared with a proud but sad smile.

“What happened to them?” Zyaire asked me, nodding to the painting. 

I felt a pang in my chest as I stared into the eyes of my grandparents. I so desperately wanted to meet them, but stories would be all I’d ever know. Stories and an oil painting.

“Indigo was assassinated…Dad was only three. Nyre was left to take care of The Vinkus alone for years, and though she was a great queen, people say she never quite got over losing her husband. She got sick and passed away when Dad was almost through college,” I murmured. “Of course, my parents took over after her and…well…here we are.” All caught up to the present.

“Here we are…” Zyaire swallowed as if something dry was stuck in his throat, his eyes still set on the portrait of Nyre.

I stared at him for a long moment. I couldn’t read him, which was unusual. He seemed quiet, evasive…overwhelmed. With some effort, I finally managed to catch his gaze.

“Zyaire…are you okay?” I asked quietly. “I know today was a lot to handle…”

“Oh, I’m okay. It’s just like you said, there’s…” for a clock-tick his eyes flitted back up to the tapestry “…a lot to take in.”

He leaned forward to kiss my temple and I could tell he was done talking about the matter. The abstract uneasiness that I felt didn’t feel entirely resolved, but the strain in the air had lifted just enough to move forward.

That’d have to be enough for now.


	18. Castle Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Sex (mention) // Terrorism (mention) // Family conflict // Implied depression // Implied dissociation

◈ **Chapter 18: Castle Fever** ◈

As the threat persisted, they boarded our windows, locked our gates, and sealed us inside indefinitely. Staff was reduced so there would be less people coming and going, more sentries than usual stood guard around the clock, and a staggering somberness pervaded the halls of the Tigelaar stronghold.

Liir and Trism were brought into safekeeping within days. I sensed that neither of them were too pleased to be here as they kept very much to themselves. It was disheartening because their presence in the castle usually made things more cheerful, but I could not blame them for their sullen behavior. None of us were at our best right now.

Dad had been deep in thought lately—which really worried us—and he spent many solemn hours shut up alone in his office. Mom, somehow stricter than usual, was intolerable to be around. It didn’t help that the iciness that had developed between the two of us that day in the council room had not yet thawed. Then there was me. As someone thrived in social settings and sunshine, lockdown was an agitating experience to say the least. I may have gone completely mad…had it not been for Zyaire’s agreement to stay.

Before the attack in Kaiburg, Zyaire and I had wanted nothing more than endless free hours to spend in each other’s company. Now, in a darkly ironic way, we had gotten what we wanted. We’d pass the hours chatting, playing games, or reading to each other. When we tired of those activities, we’d explore every nook and cranny of the castle and steal kisses in every passage, tower, and hidden room we found. We even came across an antique mandolin in storage and, after some dusting and tuning, I at last got to witness Zyaire’s skills. He really was quite good.

One rainy day, we had the brilliant idea to play hide and seek. I was even able to persuade Liir and Trism to come out of hiding to join us. Our spirits were lifted for a while during our silly game…until Mom chided us for being too loud near Dad’s office. The damper on our fun was great enough to cause Liir and Trism to retreat back to their quarters. Mom always got into a sour mood when it rained.

There had been a few suspected sightings of the culprit, but nothing conclusive. Vilnius had been alerted and a curfew was being enforced. I wondered if the residents of Vilnius could feel the same dark cloud that seemed to hang over the inhabitants of the castle. After weeks inside, it was hard to remain optimistic.

I knew that I should feel lucky that we were safe, but I was so frightfully stir-crazy that I’d catch myself peeking through the boards of the eastern facing windows to yearningly gaze towards town. It seemed like a crime to waste away indoors during springtime in Vilnius. One afternoon, I even dared to sneak out onto the patio for just a few minutes of fresh air, but I was soon discoverated by Mom who scolded me severely. _Sees all, knows all_. We didn’t speak for the rest of the day.

My nights were reserved for Zyaire. A guest room had been prepared for him but each night he’d steal into my room so we could sleep together. It wasn’t as if anyone was really under the impression that we didn’t share a bed anyway. Some nights we would make love quietly, other nights we’d spend hours whispering to each other, then there were the nights that he’d doze off before me and I’d study his face as he slept.

Having all of this extra time with him was wonderful. We laughed as we baked banana bread, I swooned as he played the mandolin, and we found comfort in each other at night. However, though our interactions on the surface were unchanged, there seemed to be a new unspoken feeling of disconnect between us that I could not put into words. I was not sure what had altered, but ever since that day in the tapestry room, I felt as if I could never reach him fully. I’d notice his eyes go out of focus, I’d catch him staring into space with a troubled frown, and occasionally I got the sense that his mind was drifting elsewhere while I spoke.

So, I attempted to find an answer in his sleeping expression since I could not find one while he was awake. I searched in hope that the secrets of his mind would reveal themselves to me…but to no avail. I questioned if this feeling was all in my mind, but regardless of whether it was real or imagined, it filled me with more dread than any outside threat ever could.

Lockdown ended as abruptly as it began. One morning at the start of May as I scavenged for some breakfast in the kitchen, Dad unexpectedly burst in with the good news.

“Poppy, they caught him. He made an attempt in Fanarra,” he reported.

I dropped the grapefruit I had been holding and ran to hug my father without another word. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and kissed the top of my head. I could practically feel his immense relief radiating from him.

“Oh thank Oz. Is everyone in Fanarra okay?” I asked worriedly, pulling out of the hug to look at him.

“Everyone is fine, they were able to stop him in time. He’s in custody and the threat is over. Forget the grapefruit, news this good calls for _pancakes_!” he beamed.

I hadn’t seen him smile in weeks.

“Listen, we are going to throw a fundraiser here in the castle to support the families of the victims in Kaiburg. Formal event. I need your help to plan it, you are the expert,” he gestured to me proudly.

“ _You’re_ the expert, I’m merely your protégé. I’ll help with anything you need,” I agreed.

“That’s my girl. We could all use a little cheering up after this ordeal…” he insisted, already gliding towards the door with a newly restored spring in his step.

“Dad?” I called after him, a sudden idea coming to mind.

“Yeah, Poppy girl?”

“This event…I know someone we should invite.”

◈◈◈

The liberation I felt to at last leave the castle was akin to feeling the first promise of spring after a never-ending winter. Though we still had to have sentries accompany us everywhere, the fresh air and sunshine seemed to restore my optimism. My woes were fleeting as I gallivanted about town…and my worries about Zyaire seemed inconsequential now. It had been a fluke, no more than a gloomy delusion, and it was behind us now; shut neatly away in a concluded chapter of our story along with the locked gates and boarded windows. A promising new chapter was beginning now…summer was fast approaching, after all.

“I’m ba-ack!” I declared in a sing-song voice to the repair shop as the little bell on the door proclaimed my return.

I was greeted at once with gasps and the lit-up faces of Katarzyna and Great Grandmother Alusia. Even Ike’s eyebrows lifted upon my unexpected entrance. Katarzyna, whose nails were bright red today, rushed to give me a warm hug in welcome as footsteps sounded down the crooked staircase. Zyaire, who had returned home just the day before, emerged on the lower landing. We grinned upon seeing each other as if we had _also_ been separated for weeks.

“Thought I heard you stirring up trouble,” he greeted me with a loving kiss before turning to his family. “I get it, you all missed her more than you missed me!”

“Kaip tavo šeima?” Great Grandmother Alusia asked from her rocking chair. _(How is your family?)_

“Džiaugiuosi kad paklausėte,” I replied brightly, turning to her with an excited smile. _(I’m glad you asked.)_

I stepped towards the door and poked my head out into the street to wave in my surprise guest. Moments later, Dad strolled into the little repair shop with his signature casual air.

“Madame Alusia, I would like to introduce you to my father, Fiyero Tigelaar,” I presented with a grand gesture.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My daughter has told me all about you!” Dad said smoothly, extending a hand to Great Grandmother Alusia.

Without missing a beat, she hoisted herself out of her chair and vigorously shook Dad’s hand with a starstruck yet self-assured expression. It was as if she’d been preparing for the encounter for years.

“Jūsų didenybe, tai garbė!” she said with a thrilled humility. _(Your Majesty, it is an honor.)_

“Ah—” Dad waved a dismissive hand. “Vadink mane Fiyero. Arba galite mane vadinti Poppy’s tėvu!” _(Call me Fiyero. Or you can call me Poppy’s father!)_

Dad then turned to Ike and stridently extended his hand to him. “You have a fine shop. My watch is in perfect order thanks to you. Fiyero Tigelaar.”

Ike, looking supremely spooked to be face to face with the king, finally gathered enough nerve to accept Dad’s shake with a trembling hand. Katarzyna’s mind appeared to go blank as Dad placed a courteous kiss to her hand before she broke into a fit of lightheaded giggles.

“Can I just say that I think you’re the coolest king ever?” Katarzyna gushed. 

“Hey, you’ve got a good one here,” Dad laughed easily towards a still panicky Ike. Dad gestured back to Katarzyna with a spirit of camaraderie. “Something tells me that you and I are cut from the same cloth!” 

“Dad?” I cleared my throat to get his attention. “Remember…”

“That's right! I am here for a reason. My family and I are holding an official ball at the castle as a fundraiser. I would be honored if you all would attend for free and join our table as my honored guests,” he extended formally.

“Mano šeima? Karaliaus garbės svečiai?” Great Grandmother Alusia blurted out energetically. _(My family?! Guests of honor for the king?!)_

“Tik jei norite dalyvauti,” he replied, approaching Great Grandmother Alusia and putting a hand on her shoulder kindly. _(Only if you wish to attend.)_

“Taip! Taip! Tai būtų garbė,” she accepted, positively grinning from ear to ear. _(Yes! Yes! It would be an honor!)_

“Fantastic!” Dad celebrated, turning to address everyone in the shop. “Thank you for letting me visit your shop, and thank you all for taking such good care of my daughter. I apologize for all of the trouble she causes—”

“Dad!” I complained, rolling my eyes. He shot me a playful wink before nodding towards the door where a sentry was waiting outside.

“I must be off. Laba diena,” he bid everyone adieu before waltzing out of the store as quickly as he came. ( _Good day.)_

The moment Dad departed; everyone began reeling from what had just happened. Katarzyna was busy hatching ideas for what she’d wear as she flipped through a clothing magazine and Ike, though still faintly shaken, stood a little taller as he listened to her with a soft expression.

“Ne, tu nusipelnei geriausio. _Satinas_. Ne medvilnė,” I overheard him fondly suggesting, pointing to a picture in her magazine. _(No, you deserve the best._ Satin _. Not cotton.)_

Great Grandmother Alusia, sitting in her chair with her hands folded over her heart, looked as if all of her dreams had come true. And Zyaire was—no…

It was back. As he silently watched his family celebrate and plan their attendance to the ball, that distracted, subdued, _disconnected_ look had returned to his face. My recently revived optimism began seeping out of me as that cold feeling returned, uneasiness tingling forebodingly up my spine. Far from the tapestry room, beyond the walls of the castle, our unspoken dilemma had followed us here.

“I’m going to need a date,” I blurted out to interrupt his musings, attempting to force our troubles back into the dreadful chapter from whence they came. “Do you know of anybody I could ask?”

He simply turned his attention back to me, offered a smile that did not reach his eyes, and kissed me on the cheek to accept.

I desperately wanted to know what was on his mind, but at the same time, I was afraid to find out.

I decided it could wait.

◈◈◈

My mother and I went through periods of time where we got on famously, and then there were times like this. Things had improved since the end of lockdown but, while we weren’t necessarily freezing each other out, things were still…chilly.

However, as the evening of the ball drew nearer, I faced a dilemma. As it so happened, Mom was surprisingly the best person to shop for formalwear with. This fact was what motivated me to seek her out the Wednesday afternoon before the event. I stalled in the doorway of our living room where she was reading, awkwardly quarrelling with myself on whether or not to approach. I always hated being the first to extend the olive branch, but then again, so did she.

“Mother,” I greeted her simply.

She glanced up at me. “Poppy.”

For a moment, I clutched onto that branch, having a hard time letting go of it. Then…

“Do you want to go shopping?”

She peered at me over her glasses and pursed her lips as if she was facing her own dilemma on whether or not she could take the branch. Then…

“I’ll get my purse.”

Mom hated shopping in general, but loved shopping with me. It had become a little tradition of ours. The absolute best trips happened when Auntie Glinda, Mom’s best friend, came into town. Sometimes she and I were _even_ able to convince Mom to buy something for herself that wasn’t black or navy blue. When it came to ballgowns, Mom and I would always ask for our favorite consultant named Voshell. They were a brutally honest middle-aged tailor and we adored them. Mom sat in a chair off to the side as I tried on a few options, she commented on a few, but Voshell rejected them all. Voshell muttered to themself in Vinkun before handing me another dress which I changed into as they stepped away to help another customer.

It was an exquisite creation. I admired the sweetheart neckline of the breathtaking blue strapless ball gown as my fingers delicately traced the silvery white beaded belt that sat high on the waist. Layer after layer of asymmetrical tulle billowed out into a full skirt. Each cascading frill was dyed a different hue of blue, creating a gradient effect which gradually grew darker until the color of the night sky brushed the ground at the bottom hem. But what was the night sky without stars? The sparkling bodice fell into a dramatic peplum of fabric and a silvery rhinestone encrusted overlay created a dazzling effect when the dress caught the light.

Something about the garment conjured memories of the night Zyaire and I spent at the riverbanks as teenagers, as if the stars from Ksena’s constellation we had gazed upon had been plucked from the sky to be sewn into this very dress. But of course, that was a silly thought…

I came out and stood in front of the mirror and Mom sighed softly at the sight of me. She stood from her chair and straightened out the back of the gown before coming to stand just behind my shoulder, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

“Well, it seems the beautiful get more beautiful…” she complimented softly, smoothing out my curls a bit. “This is the one, it’s stunning. I’m sure Zyaire will think so too.” 

“That’s the idea,” I chuckled faintly.

“You know…your father and I like Zyaire a lot. Liir does too. I think you two are very good for each other,” she said quietly.

My eyes caught hers in the mirror and I smiled faintly. For a clock-tick I felt warm and fuzzy from her validation, but that sensation was quickly dashed by what she said next. 

“I just want you both to be careful…”

My stomach dropped and I went numb with dread. Could _she_ somehow detect what was going through Zyaire’s mind? Did she know something that I didn’t?

“Careful? About what?” I asked weakly.

“You two are just falling for each other so quickly…” she explained gently, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“And that’s a bad thing?” I frowned.

“Oh sweetheart, what I mean to say is, your first romance…your first _real_ romance, is intense. I just want you to be prepared—”

“For _what_?” I interjected. I shrugged my shoulder away from her grasp, feeling tension bubbling under my skin as my dread transformed to anger.

“Poppy, it’s one thing to agree to date a Tigelaar…but with all of the responsibilities and titles it comes with, it’s a whole other thing to agree to marry a Tigelaar, to _l_ —”

“So, you think he’s not _good enough_ to marry into the family?!” I interrupted agitatedly.

“That is _not_ what I was going to say. You know I would never think that…" she sighed wearily and shook her head, as if sorry she even brought it up.

“Besides, Zyaire and I aren’t even talking about marriage yet,” I asserted. The idea that she was even bringing up marriage right now was laughable, and made me doubt how much she really _saw_ and _knew_ after all.

“I know…not yet. I’m just trying to explain that—Poppy—you were born into this family, into this world, and you _thrive_ in it. However, it’s one thing to be born and grow up into this world, it’s another thing entirely to join it later in your life—”

“Oh! So, you’re saying that Zyaire won’t want to marry _me_ , is that it?” I snapped.

“Poppy, _no_. I’m just saying that it could be an intimidating idea for someone who—”

“So, now you think I’m intimidating!”

“Poppy Laphira, I do not want to fight. I just want you to understand a perspective that you may not have considered before,” she emphasized.

“ _Right_ ,” I scoffed.

“Poppy, you are not a normal girl—”

“So, we _do_ have something in common after all!” I interrupted her nastily, whipping around to meet her eyes in a cruel gaze.

Her face fell immediately and I knew in an instant that I had touched a nerve. She pursed her lips and looked away for a moment, raising her hands up in surrender.

“Forget I said anything,” she muttered.

Voshell reentered and gave their approval on the dress. Mom purchased it and a sentry escorted us home.

Not a word was exchanged between us for the entire way back, but that sinister wall of ice built itself back up stronger than ever with every silent step we took.


	19. The Princess and the Shop Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Microaggressions / Bullying / Classism / Alcohol use

◈ **Chapter 19: The Princess and the Shop Boy** ◈

The sound of bustling voices wafted up to my room from the foyer as I sat at my vanity the night of the ball. It was a good turnout; many affluent people had purchased a table for the event which was sure to generate a lot of relief money. It promised to be a fairly elegant party…despite the bleak reason for gathering.

My hair fell into shiny, loopy ringlets around my shoulders, my makeup was precise, and my new dress fit to perfection. For the final touch, I fastened a heavy yet sophisticated silvery tiara spotted with fake blue diamonds onto my head. After all, when the royal family hosted an event, we had to dress the part.

From down the hall I suddenly heard the familiar clacking of a low heel and the rustling of satin. I quickly crossed my arms and turned my head back towards my mirror, begrudgingly listening for my door to click open. But it didn't. The footsteps passed my door and carried on down the hallway. Mom always stopped in my room to check on me before event nights…but apparently not tonight.

Fine by me.

Polished, tiaraed, and regal, I descended the staircase into the main foyer dressed for a festivity born out of tragedy. The foyer was crowded, almost shoulder to shoulder, and people looked up and whispered amongst each other when they saw me. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, for I couldn't help but get a sudden thrill from their attention. I had never quite outgrown my satisfaction of getting noticed, being seen. I had been cooped up in this castle for weeks and, in the midst of all of that gloom, I had almost forgotten that I _enjoyed_ parties. I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin as I walked through the crowded foyer, nodding and smiling at people who'd catch my glance as I passed by, until I spotted Ike and Katarzyna.

"Ei graži moteris!" I greeted Katarzyna excitedly, giving her a kiss on each cheek. _(Hey beautiful lady!)_

"Negaliu patikėti, kad tu čia gyveni…" she said, gazing around the foyer with a stupefied look. _(I cannot believe you live here.)_

Katarzyna was in a lovely satin dress with matching nails and had a shimmery wrap around her shoulders. Ike was dressed sharply in what I recognized to be the suit from his wedding. While Katarzyna seemed ready to bust with anticipation, Ike appeared perhaps more timorous than I had ever seen him. He meekly glanced over his shoulder and I saw him discreetly nudge his wife, nodding his head towards the entrance.

I turned to see who had caught his attention and my jaw dropped. Great Grandmother Alusia was wearing a stunning floor length gown, her cornrows were styled into an intricate updo, and I caught a glimpse of a charming ring. However, nothing she was wearing could have outshined the smile on her face. I had never seen the short woman look so tall.

"Madame Alusia," I enthused as she approached with assistance. "Jūs esate vizija." _(You are a vision.)_

Appearing too elated to speak, she said nothing but instead merely placed a hand over her heart in thanks. My eyes shifted to the person on her arm and butterflies fluttered as my face flushed. Zyaire, assisting his Great Grandmother, looked unspeakably handsome in his gray suit from the wedding. There was something so surreal about seeing him in this way, in this place, in this context. He bewitched me like no one else could.

"Hi," I sighed softly.

He remained as silent as Ike as he took me in, and in that moment, the family resemblance was obvious. However, his face spoke louder than words. There was awe in his expression, there was love, and something else I could not place…

"You clean up well," I complimented with a grin. He swallowed and shook his head.

"You…" he began to say with a feeble gesture in my direction.

But before we could exchange any more words, my father entered the foyer to greet the Andris party. The crowd of people began pointing out 'the king' to other members of their party but, as usual, Dad was not fazed. He stood before Great Grandmother Alusia and presented his arm courteously.

"Madame Alusia, ar galėčiau jus palydėti?" he offered. _(Madame Alusia, may I accompany you?)_

She graciously took his arm with a confidence that would suggest to an outside viewer that she had done this countless times before. Katarzyna, following their example, took Ike's arm and the four of them began making their way down the hall towards the ballroom. Now that we were alone, at least, among only strangers, I turned my attention back to Zyaire. His emerald green tie was slightly askew and I reached forward to straighten it fondly.

"In all the hustle and bustle I barely got to greet you," I said charmingly.

"Y—the…" he cleared his throat " _castle_ …looks different."

"Yes, we really go all out," I responded.

I suddenly felt a strong tug on my skit and I looked down to see a young girl, no more than four, staring up at me with gigantic green eyes.

"Are you a princess?" she asked loudly, pointing at my tiara.

I kneeled down at her level and nodded. "Yes I am. Are _you_ a princess?"

"Yes," she answered matter-of-factly. I laughed and opened my arms to her.

"That's what I thought. May I hug you?" I asked. She nodded and I gave her a tight hug, one princess to another.

"Pavanne! Get back here now!" a voice called. A stern looking Gillikin man swept in to collect his daughter.

"Apologies, your majesty. It's her first time in The Vinkus and she forgets her manners. You cannot simply _approach_ her, Pavanne!" he rebuked.

"It's quite alright, she can approach me any time. Until we meet again, princesė," I winked at Pavanne once before her dad pulled her away.

"Sorry about that, I'm kind of a big deal around here," I joked, straightening my tiara a bit. "Shall we?"

"Sure…" he trailed off. We stalled for a moment as I waited for him to offer his arm, before realizing he may not know that it was expected.

"Here—" I said, carefully moving his arm so it was in a position for me to take. I slid my arm through his and gave him a patient smile. "Like that…"

"Right, sorry," he shook his head.

"It's an archaic tradition anyway," I confided with an eye roll, trying to make light of the awkward moment.

We headed towards the entrance of the ballroom where we were stopped by Hailan, the staff member in charge of announcing entrances. The past few events had been more exclusive, like my parent's anniversary celebration, but it seemed that Dad had opted to reintroduce the old-fashioned custom for the night.

"We're doing announcements?" I asked. Hailan nodded. He was notoriously incompetent at the task, but he did have the loudest voice.

"Okay…Poppy Tigelaar and Zyaire Andris," I sounded out for him clearly.

"Princesė Poppy Tigelaar and Zare Andris," Hailan proclaimed in his booming voice.

I sighed at his mispronunciation of Zyaire's name, but nevertheless, I gently guided him forward into the ballroom. All eyes were on us as we entered as a couple and I squeezed Zyaire's arm supportively, subtly steering him towards our table. I had to admit, making an entrance was fun for me, especially with someone like Zyaire on my arm.

Our table was composed of my parents, Ike and Katarzyna, Great Grandmother Alusia, and Zyaire and me. Liir and Trism were not in attendance as they had gone back to The City the moment they could after lockdown. Great Grandmother Alusia was seated to the right of Dad and they seemed to already be engrossed in conversation. Mom, who was seated on Dad's other side, looked drained and even more world-weary than usual as she sipped at her wine. Zyaire and I unlinked arms when we arrived at the table and I made a point to position myself so that I would not be seated beside my mother. Zyaire had begun to take his seat when Katarzyna jumped in to say something about it.

"Zyaire! Pull out the seat for Poppy, she is the _princess_!" she insisted.

"No Kat, it's really okay—" I shook my head. My hand had already been on the back of my own chair when Zyaire fretfully hopped up and moved to pull the seat out for me. We awkwardly both pulled it out together and I thanked him quickly as I sat. Zyaire looked flustered as he sat down again and I grabbed his hand from under the table to give it a reassuring squeeze. Were we having fun yet?

Dinner was served and I began to catch bits and pieces of Dad and Great Grandmother Alusia's enrapturing conversation. She seemed to be recounting tales of King Indigo's and Queen Nyre's reign. They talked as if they were old friends, swapping different perspectives from the same day, laughing at lighthearted memories, and nodding solemnly at sorrowful ones.

"Your necklace is twisted," Mom's unwelcome voice disrupted my eavesdropping. I straightened it out and gave her a tense look.

"Thanks," I said coldly.

Throughout dinner, people such as diplomats or councilmembers would approach our table and attempt to engage us in conversation.

"I hate when they bother us during dinner," I mumbled in Zyaire's ear when the conversation lulled enough for me to address him. "I mean, I don't mind schmoozing a little bit, but at least let me eat."

He merely smiled weakly and nodded as he pushed his food around with his fork.

"Alright there?" I inquired.

He looked as if he was about to answer, but just then, our plates were cleared away from the table and Dad stood to make an announcement. Mom stood beside him but said nothing for once. He spoke a bit about the reason we were all here and thanked everybody for their attendance and contributions. He ended on a positive note and, upon finishing his speech, festive music began sweeping through the hall. Dad then offered his hand to his new best buddy, Great Grandmother Alusia.

"Ar galėčiau surengti šį šokį?" _(Can I have this dance?)_

Despite her brooding mood, Mom couldn't help but crack a small smile at Dad's manners. She stared admiringly as he escorted Great Grandmother Alusia to the dance floor, but her eyes soon went out of focus again and she began apathetically messing with a leaf on a centerpiece. She wasn't even _pretending_ to have a good time.

"She fits right in, doesn't she?" I nudged Zyaire, nodding towards Great Grandmother Alusia dancing with Dad.

"She does…" he muttered detachedly, taking a small sip of wine. I frowned at him, beginning to feel slightly frustrated. He was barely looking at me.

"Do you want to dance?" I attempted, raising my eyebrows.

"I can't dance."

"We danced at your dad's wedding…" I pointed out.

"That was different—"

"Please?" I requested imploringly, catching his hand in mine and placing a tender kiss to his fingers. At last, he turned his head to look at me and relented to my pleading with a nod. I stood out of my chair so he didn't feel as if he had to escort me and offered my hand to him with a dramatic flourish.

"Ar galėčiau surengti šį šokį?" I said in a fake sultry voice, referencing the time he made me swoon by asking me to dance in Vinkun. _(Can I have this dance?)_

Then, despite his very best efforts to ward it away, he smiled. It was short lived, but genuine, and gave me hope. He took my hand and we strolled to the ballroom floor as a slower song began. I placed his hand on my waist and took his other hand in mine, pleased that he would have no choice but to look at me as we danced. And it worked. Gradually, his shoulders relaxed, his hand tightened around mine, and he exhaled slowly before finally meeting my eyes.

"There you are," I murmured as we swayed together. "I was starting to think I lost you there…"

"I guess I'm just used to having you to myself…" he chuckled nervously.

"Oh? And what would you do if you had me alone?" I asked in a low tone.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but smirk and hold my waist just a bit tighter.

"I probably shouldn't say…" he muttered back with a subtle lift of his eyebrow.

Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the dancing that was making our banter flow again, whatever it was, I didn't question it. He was teasing with me, _flirting_ with me again. He was smiling. All of the noise was drowned out and it was just us again. Just for that moment…I had him back.

"As long as you wouldn't _cook_ for me," I pestered him. He groaned for a moment before placing a hand on my back and dipping me suddenly.

"It _wasn't_ that bad," he grumbled with a playful glare.

"It was _really_ that bad," I grinned evilly, clutching his shoulder as he pulled me out of the dip.

Perhaps emboldened by our repartee, he impressively spun me out. However, as he spun me back in, he did not account for the largeness of my skirt, which caused him to inelegantly trod on the hem of my dress. We stumbled for a moment and then an audible sound of tearing fabric was heard.

"Oh—Oz—Poppy I'm sorry," he gasped in horror, looking down at the hem of the dress where a long horizontal gash in the thin blue tulle was now apparent.

"It's okay—"

"I didn't mean to—"

" _Zyaire_ , it's just a dress!" I assured him, putting my hands on the sides of his face. "Just take a deep breath."

He did, but I knew that the moment was over. That panicked look was back and it was not helped by the many sets of eyes now watching our every move. Nor was it helped when a man with dark hair, appearing to be in his early thirties, approached me with an arrogant swagger.

"Mačiau, kaip tave suklupo," he pointed out, gesturing to the tear at the bottom of my dress. "Maniau, kad jums gali patikti gelbėti." _(I saw you stumble. I thought you might like me to come to the rescue.)_

"Excuse me—" I began to say before the man bowed to me chivalrously.

"Ar galėčiau surengti šį šokį?" he asked me to dance in a low, seductive voice. Then, horribly, a cruel smirk graced his face as he intentionally stared Zyaire down to say his next piece.

"I assure you that _I_ shall not trip on your gown, princess."

The realization of what was happening dawned on Zyaire's face and I watched in dismay as he began to swiftly retreat from the scene. I irritably shooed the strange man off and moved to catch up to Zyaire before he got too far.

"Zyaire— _please_ don't worry about him," I requested when I finally got him to face me again. "He's just trying to impress me. It's not working."

"Princesė!" a voice called behind me. I sighed impatiently and turned to see a councilwoman stumbling my way.

"Fabulous event, terrible circumstances of course," she said, placing one hand on my shoulder as she sipped from her wine glass generously.

"Yes of course," I said, trying to remain polite. I was so tired of being interrupted. "Zyaire this is Councilwoman Fedra. Fedra, this is Zyaire Andris, my—"

"Oh yes, your _shop boy_!" she hiccupped. "I'll bet you're just having the time of your life, brushing elbows with the best Vilnius has to offer!"

"Fedra we were just going to…" I attempted to cut her off.

"Oh, Poppy he's just the _cutest_ thing I've ever seen. Oren was wrong, he does clean up well!"

"Fedra—"

Then, she boozily put her arm around my shoulders, gave it an uncomfortable squeeze, and turned her attention to Zyaire.

"I have this young girl to thank for my career, did you know that? The very first day she became our Queen in Waiting she marched into the council room and fired half of the geezers at the table! Then who got one of their spots besides old Fedra here? Going to make a fierce queen. One of a kind. She's a special one!" she slurred.

"Thank you, Fedra. Ačiū. I think I actually need a glass of wine myself if you don't mind…"

Seizing my opportunity, I grabbed Zyaire and hastily guided him away from Fedra.

"She's just drunk. Compared to other councilmembers, she really isn't too bad—"

"Poppy…" he muttered, looking quite pale.

"No, no seriously don't mind her. She means well, she—"

But I paused midsentence and we both stopped in our tracks as we spotted the scene straight ahead of us. Near the archway that led to the back hallway stood Ike who had his hand placed consolingly on his wife's shoulder. Katarzyna, who was blotting heavy tears with her shimmery wrap, plainly appeared to be crying. A young couple seemed to be talking to them and my stomach twisted when I saw that each of them had what could only be described as a _sneer_ plastered to their faces.

"Kas vyksta?" I asked upon approaching the scene with Zyaire in tow. _(What's happening?)_

"Štai ji!" the man greeted me boisterously. "Mes tiesiog kalbėjome apie tave." _(There she is! We were just talking about you.)_

I vaguely recognized the couple from other events but I did not know them well by any means. I couldn't even recollect their names. However, it was clear that they came from money, and the way they acted suggested that they wanted everyone to know it.

The woman giggled shrilly into the man's shoulder before looking back at me. "Mes tik sakome, kiek daug tu darai labdarai. Tai turi tiek daug reikšti šiems paprastiems žmonėms. Dalyvauja karaliaus vakarėlyje ir sėdi prie jų _stalo_!" _(We're just saying how much you do for charity. It has to mean so much to these simple people. Attending the king's party and sitting at their_ table _!)_

My jaw dropped at their blatant offensiveness. If this was how they were speaking in front of me I couldn't imagine what they had been saying before.

"Poppy, what are they saying?" Zyaire asked from beside me. The couple snickered at his question and began turning their sadistic attention his way.

"Ir čia mūsų būsimasis karalius!" the man said cruelly, with a sarcastic bow towards Zyaire. "Parduotuvės berniukas. Jis net nekalba Vinkun." _(And here is our future king! Shop boy. He doesn't even speak Vinkun.)_

My pulse started rushing.

"Aš suprantu, kad jums nuobodu buvo Royce, princesė. Bet miegoti su parduotuvės berniuku? Spėju, kad visi turime savo fantazijų!" the woman brayed with demeaning laughter. _(I understand you were bored of Royce, princess. But to sleep with a shop boy? I guess we all have our fantasies!)_

My head reeled.

"Poppy—" Zyaire called.

"Net karalienė buvo Munchkinland gubernatoriaus dukra!" snorted the man. "Įsivaizduokite parduotuvės berniuką kaip karalių!" _(Even the queen was the daughter of the Governor of Munchkinland. Imagine the shop boy as king.)_

My face flushed.

"What are they saying!?" Zyaire begged agitatedly.

Then…I froze.

Dumbfounded and _humiliated_ by these unkind people, I did no more than stare in shock as the hostile pair delighted in a diatribe towards people that were near and dear to my heart. I stayed silent as they picked on the ever kind and quiet Ike, as they disparaged sweet Katarzyna so much that she was _weeping_ , and as they openly belittled the man that I loved right before my eyes. Tense, pale, and pathetic, my feet stayed planted…and my mouth stayed shut.

"They are complimenting the princess for her charity in inviting us…and they are laughing at the idea of a shop boy being king."

His heavily accented voice growling with suppressed fury, Ike Andris had courageously spoken for maybe the first time all night. I lifted my eyes for a clock-tick only to cower under his sudden prowess. As I observed Ike, his eyes brimming with soundless rage and disappointment, I began to realize just how scary silence could be. How loud it could be…how _harmful_ it could be.

Shame exploded within me. I cursed my tongue for failing me. I cursed myself for failing _them_. But the worst was yet to come. My throat was dry as I turned to give Zyaire a desperate look. I used to think that there could be a no more dreadful sight than that distracted expression I had been analyzing for weeks…but how wrong I was. The look of deep hurt and profound embarrassment that stained his features was the most horrible sight I had ever seen.

Then, he ran.

He escaped the ballroom and turned into the hallway without a word, without a glance behind. The unkind cackling from the couple intensified as he made his escape and the sound of it spurred me out of my stupor. What was I _doing_?!

"Zyaire—wait!" I called after him.

I started to head after him only to stumble on my torn dress, worsening the divide. I paused for a clock-tick, gathered my ripped skirts, gathered my bravery, and went after my love as quickly as I could.


	20. And That Was That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Classism, Romantic conflict

◈ **Chapter 20: And That Was That** ◈

I could just barely make out the top of Zyaire's head as he zig-zagged through the crowd of people in the hall. Despite the stares I was getting, I charged steadily after him as swiftly as my outfit would allow. I noticed him slip out onto our patio where people often congregated for some fresh air. The late spring evening had a pleasant breeze to it as I pushed my way outside. Zyaire was easy to spot. He stood alone, leaning against the railing of the overlook, staring blankly out at the western scenery beyond the castle.

"Zyaire…" I called to him, feeling breathless from the chase. He began to turn turned his head until—

"Princesė! Fine night, isn't it? I was hoping we could connect—"

I didn't bother looking at the unfortunate soul attempting to gain my attention, all I knew was that I had reached my limit on being disrupted tonight.

"The patio is officially out of bounds!" I barked fiercely at the partygoers enjoying the outdoors. "Everybody back inside at _once_! Visi eina į vidų!" _(Everyone, go inside!)_

People froze for a clock-tick before they began to awkwardly file indoors, muttering amongst themselves as they retreated. As they cleared out, I pointed a finger towards Zyaire.

"Except you," I demanded in a hoarse voice. "You stay."

He obeyed and we stood in an edgy silence until we heard the door close behind the last person to vacate the patio.

"Zyaire…I know these things can be overwhelming—" I began.

"Poppy…why am I here?" he interrupted in a quiet voice.

"What do you mean? I invited you…" I frowned, puzzled by his question.

"I don't mean tonight. I mean…here. With you. Why am I here…with you?" he asked forlornly as he turned to look at me.

I selfishly wished that he would go back to avoiding my gaze, because the strained, _lost_ expression that he was displaying now was almost too much to bear. His face was creased into a troubled frown as if he were attempting to solve an impossible riddle.

"You're my date…" I answered in a small voice.

My heart began pounding, but not in the same addictingly beautiful way it did when I experienced a tender moment with him. It thudded heavily, sickeningly, forebodingly. Like an ominous drum warning me that something bad was drawing near.

"Poppy—"

"Zyaire, what those people said—that couple—" I cut him off.

"Let me guess, they mean well?" he retorted bitterly. "I shouldn't worry about them?"

My eyebrows shot up at his tone. It was a tone that I had never heard from him, one of irritation and impatience. It was very unlike him.

" _No_ , I was going to say that they're wicked, rotten people who don't deserve another thought," I replied shortly, unable to bite back the slight edge to my own voice.

"Well, you didn't say that to them, did you?" he muttered under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But I'm sure they're good people deep down, right? Just like Fedra, Royce, Darielle, and whoever else—"

"Royce? _Darielle_? Where in Oz is this coming from?" I asked wildly.

"Poppy, you know what I'm talking about!"

"No, I don't!" I maintained.

"Yes, you do!" he sighed in frustration. "Besides, as wicked and rotten as that couple may be, they have a _point_!"

"What point?!"

"About a shop boy becoming _king_!" he shouted into the warm evening air.

Then, for an immeasurable moment in time, the only sound we heard was the faint whistle of the wind and the sound my dress made as it rippled in the gust. The uneasiness that had been stalking me was now back with a vengeance as the war drum of my heart underscored our march towards the inevitable culmination of these past few weeks…whether I was ready or not.

"I don't know what you mean," I lied hoarsely.

"Poppy…come on…" he murmured. His voice was softer now but had a distressing tone of resignation to it.

"No…no I will _not_ come on. Where—I mean…where is this coming from, Zyaire?" I mumbled pathetically. "How does becoming king have anything to do with us—"

He suddenly began to pace a small distance across the patio as if he was still trying to crack that code, unravel that riddle.

"It was easy to overlook when we hung out in the shop…or my apartment. When we'd spend the day unpacking or—or organizing receipt paper or something like that. Even here in the castle it could still feel natural sometimes—like when we played cards or explored those passages, even during that silly newspaper party. I could forget, at least for a while…" he thought aloud.

"Forget what?" I asked numbly.

He turned his head and stared at me for a long moment, astonished that I wasn't getting it. His eyes began to study me and collect evidence from the details of my appearance. He finally shook his head and gestured to me with a shaking hand as he shared the conclusion that he had drawn.

"That you're going to be queen."

A tiny, perplexed, laugh erupted from me. Was that all? That was far from new information. He had learned that I was a Tigelaar the very day we met, and learned that I was to be queen before we ever began dating. How could my title only _now_ be causing a hiccup between us?

"Well…of course I'm going to be queen. Zyaire, you've known this about me since—"

"Yes, of course I've always known that. It's just—I don't know. Ever since we met as teenagers, all of those times we spent together…you were always just Poppy. Poppy Tigelaar, my best friend. A cute, funny, terrific girl who just _happened_ to be royalty. You were just…Poppy."

"I'm still just Poppy," I insisted quietly.

"No…you're so much more. You're Princesė Poppy Laphira Tigelaar. The Karalienė Laukia. Future Queen of The Vinkus!" he said with a grand sweeping gesture. _(Queen in Waiting)_

"Zyaire, I don't understand. I've never tried to hide that part of my life from you. What changed?" I asked desperately, confused and shocked by his declaration.

"There's just something about tonight…it's like I'm seeing you through different eyes. People bow to you and stare in awe as you go by. Little girls idolize you, men trip over themselves to get the chance to dance with you— _Oz_! You hold the power to command an entire patio of people using only your voice! Not to mention you can so naturally schmooze with these rich, entitled braggarts who don't care about the purpose of a fundraiser so long as they can drink at their cultish social gathering."

"Including me, right? Tell me, how am I any different from these rich, entitled braggarts?!" I snapped back, my eyes narrowing at his judgmental observation as a rush of defensiveness flared within me. "My family is hosting this event, after all. I've been helping plan these _cultish social gatherings_ with Dad for years—"

"You know that's not what I meant—"

"You have no right to judge me or my family when the people of The Vinkus are looking to us to raise their spirits! Besides…these parties and events, as frivolous as they may seem to you, are important to me. I _like_ them. I like when people stare at me, I like when little girls look up to me, I like brushing elbows with—"

"The best Vilnius has to offer?!" he interjected.

"That is _not_ what I was going to say. You know I would never think that. What I'm saying is…I'm not going to distance myself from this world or be sorry for who I am to make you feel more comfortable. I won't apologize for my ambition. Being queen is the only thing I've _ever_ wanted. This?" I gestured towards my ball gown. "Comes with it. This is a big part of my world. It always has been, and that is not about to change!"

Following my impassioned rant, the drum in my chest accelerated menacingly as if crescendoing towards a frightening climax. Zyaire closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and at last revealed the thought that he had been harboring all these weeks.

"But that's just it, Poppy. This is your world…and I don't fit in it."

Then the drum stopped. My _heart_ stopped. The flare of anger that had controlled me moments before evaporated at his statement, leaving me with no more defenses.

"Zyaire…what are you saying?" I asked in a near whisper.

"Just look at me. My mom bought me this suit just before I went to college and it's still the nicest thing I own. And just look at you, you're the most beautiful person I have ever seen. It _paralyzed_ me tonight to see you in that dress and tiara. How could I stand next to you as I am, when you are _all_ that you are?"

"Zyaire, stop it," I said urgently, taking a few rushed steps towards him. However, in the process of my hurried gait, my foot got caught on the gash in my dress. I swore under my breath and the tulle ripped further as I freed my shoe.

"See? I don't know how to escort you; I don't know how to pull your chair out and…and I trip on your skirts when we dance," he said in a voice thick with shame and pent-up grief. He gestured to the gaping hole in the garment as if it were all the evidence that I'd need to prove his unworthiness.

"None of those things matter," I asserted firmly. "It just takes practice—"

"It's more than that and you know it is," he shook his head regretfully. "Poppy…we have to have it out. We've put it off for too long."

We have to have it out. My lips pinched shut and I smoothed out the skirt of my dress with shaking hands as I waited for him to say it out loud. Somehow, I knew what he was going to say just before he said it. He had known, _Mom_ had known, and deep down I felt as if _I_ had known all of this time too. Known what unspoken thing had been haunting us since that day in the tapestry room.

"Poppy, if in the future we were to marry, I would become king…wouldn't I?"

There it was. The question that we had dodged, ignored, and tried to shoo away. The question that had the power to unravel us.

"Why are you talking about marriage?" I asked feebly. "That's not, I mean…that's not something we need to be worried about right now…"

"Poppy…if we got married, I'd have to be king one day. True?" he pressed me softly, as if attempting to gently coax the confirmation out of me.

I swallowed, unable to say it out loud. Yes, if we were to marry, he would be king. It was a nonnegotiable truth. While in any other scenario my heart may have leapt at the mere mention of marrying Zyaire, it now seized with a fearful ache and an awful sinking feeling invaded my body. I knew why he was asking me this. If being king was a responsibility that Zyaire was not willing to take on…then that left us with no choices. Our relationship would float in no man's land, unable to move back…and unable to move forward. I crossed my arms around myself, as if it would hold my heart in place, and confirmed what he already knew with a slow nod.

We stared at each other with a hopeless expression as we soaked in the information and pieced together what it meant. What it meant for _us_.

"But…but—" I spoke up in a panicky voice, advancing a few steps towards him. "We don't need to worry about that right now. Besides…besides—my parents married for love. My grandparents too. Remember? Listen, my mother and grandmother didn't know anything about being royalty either and they figured it out…they figured it out!"

"Your mother was the daughter of the Governor of Munchkinland and your Grandmother Nyre came from Gillikin nobility…I can study Tigelaar history too, you know," he said with a tiny, devastated smile.

I shook my head frantically, refusing to hear where he was going with this.

"I'm a dime-a-dozen mediocrity. Someone who used to paint roofs. A shop boy who sweeps floors. What do I know of governing a country?"

"But can't you at least _try_? Can't you at least—at least _consider_ it?" I begged pitifully, the lump in my throat getting harder to speak over. "For _us_?"

"Poppy…I just don't fit into this life," he emphasized despondently. "I just don't make sense."

"You fit into _my_ life!" I exclaimed, my hand clutching my heart. "It doesn't have to make sense! You know who made sense? Royce. He was everything that he was supposed to be and I was miserable with him, just _miserable_. We don't have to make sense; we just need each other!"

I couldn't believe this was happening. I covered my face with my hands and took a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears that were now dangerously close. Now _I_ was trying to solve that impossible riddle…the riddle of how we could still make this work.

"Maybe—maybe I don't want to be queen if I can't have you too," I blurted out unexpectedly. But even as the words passed through my lips, I knew that that was not an option.

"You don't mean that. You _know_ you don't mean that. Being queen is what you've worked and waited for. You love your job, your family, your history. You're already a legend for firing half of the damn council on your first day! You know the Tigelaar family tree by heart, you shine at parties, you faced a potential terrorism threat head on without breaking a _sweat_ ," he listed intensely.

"I know, but—"

"You _love_ The Vinkus, Poppy! You love them and…they need you. You are going to be the first bloodborne queen in nine generations of Tigelaars and you're going to be remarkable. I could never let you give all of that up that for _me_ ," he insisted passionately, stepping towards me so that we were only about a foot apart. "You are _special_ , Poppy."

"You're special too!" I cried, a solitary tear finally breaking loose and racing down my cheek.

"You've _always_ been special. You have a rock collection and cannot cook pasta. You—you barely know Vinkun but it's so cute when you try. You're smart and kind and make me laugh harder than anyone I've ever known. You understand me, Zyaire, and you like me for me which is rare. I don't care if you're a shop boy, or that you only have one suit, or whatever the reason is that you think you don't fit. You're my best friend. You're special, Zyaire. You're special and I love you. _I love you_."

I covered my mouth with my hand as a quick, dry sob escaped me with no warning. It provided me no solace or satisfaction, but I saw a tear streak down his face too which he swiftly brushed away.

"I love you, Zyaire," I repeated in a strained, cracked voice.

There was a pause, and then…

"I love you too, Poppy," he muttered hoarsely, as if it caused him great pain to confess it.

"Then why? Why all of this?" I sniffed. "What now? We love each other but we're…are we breaking up?"

He was silent for a long moment, his hands shoved in his pockets. "I don't know."

_I don't know_. A sudden rage rose within me so quickly I had no time to process or contain it.

"You don't _know_?!" I yelled, feeling quite out of control as I glared his way viciously. "Well, you'd best figure it out pretty damn fast, Zyaire! If you truly cannot even entertain the idea of a future here, a future with _me_ , then I'm not going to wait around for you to break my heart when you can go ahead and get it over with tonight. So, go ahead! I'm waiting!"

"Poppy—"

"NO! Don't prolong it—I can't take it. I can't. It is all or nothing, Zyaire. We're _everything_ or…" I faltered for a moment, "…or we're nothing. We always have been."

The wind swept between us again as it gusted westward, and the only sound to be heard was my ragged breathing and distant voices from the oblivious people celebrating inside. We said nothing more.

Our farewell was abrupt and unceremonious. We both met each other's eyes, all of those said and unsaid things pulsating in the space between us, and then he walked back inside leaving me alone on the patio.

And that was that.


	21. Both

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Profanity / Family conflict / Gambling (mention)

◈ **Chapter 21: Both** ◈

After Zyaire left, I despairingly took a seat at one of our deck chairs with my back facing the door. I glanced down at my skirts which were fanned out all around me—and my eyes landed on the rip in my dress. That stupid rip. Without thinking, I reached down and began madly tearing at it, relishing in the sound of the tearing tulle as I dramatically worsened the gash. I furiously yanked and pulled at the offending fabric until, with a crazed, frustrated sound, I abruptly dropped my hold on it and buried my face in my hands. I could feel my makeup smudging, but I didn't care.

Suddenly, I heard the door to the patio click open and my heart leapt in hope. For an instant, I believed that he had returned. That he'd take it all back or tell me that this had all been an unfair prank. Positive that I'd see him standing there, I stood out of my chair and turned around in anticipation—

But it wasn't Zyaire…

My shock quickly transformed into outrage as I found myself facing the last person in Oz I wanted to see right now.

"Mother, what are you doing here?!" I asked crossly, horrified to be discoverated by her.

"I heard what happened…" she said calmly. "Not all of it, but enough."

I stared at her as the fact that she had spectated my very worst moment sunk in. Seeing her stand there, so straight and tall, made my whole body begin vibrating with wrath. Had she gotten some sick satisfaction out of watching her prediction come to pass?

"You heard what happened—because of _course_ you did!" I cackled harshly, unloading my chaotic frustration onto her. "Well, congratulotions, Mother! You got to be right, as always. I hope you're _happy_!"

Smudged makeup, torn dress, fierce stare. I had become a mad queen, or rather princess, as unhinged as the wicked witch who birthed me.

"No, I'm not happy. Why would I be?" she said in a steady but firm tone.

"Look at you, so poised and collected. You're suddenly able to stay calm for once?!" I scowled at her. " _Oz_! Why do you always have to see everything, know everything, give your Ozdamn opinion on _everything_?!"

"Poppy please take a breath—"

"NO! This is what you get for meddling into my business like always! Well guess what? Zyaire can't take the pressure of this life and he's left me just like you said he would! Is that what you _wanted_?!"

"I never said he would leave you," she shook her head. "If you would just _listen_ to me, you'd know that all I said is that I know what it's like to be sc—"

"Wonderful! More wisdom from Elphaba, more stories about her life! Why can't you do me a huge favor and stop rubbing your perfect love story in my face?!"

"Honey, let's just go upstairs and—" she attempted.

" _No_!" I shouted crazily, my fury spurting and bubbling like a concoction in a cauldron.

"When something comes over me like this—" she began.

"You and I have nothing in common," I hissed with rage. "I'm nothing like you and I never will be!"

"You'd be surprised—"

"FUCK OFF, MOM!" I roared so emphatically that the expletive echoed through the night air, reverberating out towards the western sky.

In all my life, I had never cursed at my mother. We had gotten into countless arguments throughout the years, but our conflicts had never reached such heights. I had never crossed that line, nor had she. I didn't stick around to see her reaction. I gathered my skirts, which now sported an even ghastlier rip, and sped straight in the castle. I didn't stop. I didn't look back to see if she was following me. I simply stormed past people in a frantic blur, taking shortcuts as necessary, until I had successfully retreated into my bedroom with a heavy slam of the door.

I tore the tiara out of my hair and forcefully chucked it onto the surface of my vanity where it clattered noisily against my makeup and knickknacks. What had once made me feel confident and elegant now served as a mocking reminder of what this life had cost me tonight. I carelessly wiped off my makeup, yanked my hair into an untidy bun, and tore off the wretched ball gown before flinging it to the floor with all of my might where it landed in the corner of my room with a soft rustle. It was only when I jerked open my dresser drawer that I halted my tantrum towards my belongings.

On the top of the drawer was Zyaire's Emerald University t-shirt, which I had made good on my promise to steal. The shirt I had borrowed that night I stayed over. The night we first said I love you. Not thinking clearly, I made the unwise decision to swiftly change into sweatpants and pull the t-shirt on over my head. It still smelled like him. I moved to sit on my bed, and in doing so, I caught sight of the basalt rock on my bedside table. The sight of the rock and the scent of the shirt overwhelmed me, and the reality of what had happened tonight began to truly sink in.

Zyaire and I were over. I couldn't believe we were over. Even with his off behavior, even with Mom's cryptic warning, I never could have guessed that this night would send us over the edge. In fact, in the back of my mind, I hadn't pictured us ever breaking up at all…

That was it, wasn't it? I knew that he was that boy, but I had been too vain to ever consider the fact that I might not be that girl. From that first freezing night we shared together in the apartment above the repair shop, I had felt…I had _known_ …that he was it for me. I knew he would be part of my story. I had found him, just as Liir had found Trism…just as my parents had found each other.

My parents…

Mom.

The words I shouted towards her in anger began to deafeningly sound in my brain just as they had echoed into the spring evening, and my stomach began twisting with horrendible guilt. Ironically faced with the consequences of my own temper, I realized that I was now feeling the exact opposite of how I had felt earlier. As I sat in my room, lonely and devastated, I knew that the person in Oz that I most wanted to talk to was…Mom. The urge came to me quickly, and before I could overthink it, I stood out of bed to hurry to my bedroom door. Oz help me, but I needed my mother.

But when I opened the door…she was already there. Changed into her nightgown and robe, the tangles freshly brushed out of her impossibly long hair, I discovered Mom outside of my door with her hand half raised as if she had just been about to knock. Even after the things I said, even after I cursed at her, she had come anyway. She was making good on the offhand promise she had made years ago. I needed her…and she was there.

"Mama…" I whispered.

"Oh, Poppy…" she replied in a hushed tone.

Then, we simultaneously threw our arms around each other in a fierce hug. In doing so, that barrier of ice that had been separating us shattered into a million fragments and the resentment we had both been clinging to melted clean away. None of it seemed to matter anymore.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry, Mama," I apologized hoarsely.

"I'm sorry too, baby. I'm sorry too," she responded soothingly.

"I didn't mean what I said."

"I know, I know," she shushed me gently. "I'm here, I've got you."

I trembled in her arms and I let her hold me, indescribably relieved to forgive and be forgiven.

"Mama?" I whimpered after a long moment, my lower lip trembling as I pulled out of the embrace just enough to see her.

"Yes, Poppy?" she responded, her brown eyes meeting my own in a patient gaze.

"I really, really love him," I confessed in an utterly shattered voice before at last dissolving into unrestrained, painful sobs.

She moved my head to rest against her shoulder and I burrowed my face into it, my shoulders shaking violently as I messily spilled all of my confusion, guilt, and heartbreak right into the silky material of my mother's robe. All the while, she stroked the baby hairs at the base of my neck, rubbed my back, and held me too tight.

Somewhere through my muffled cries, I could faintly make out the sound of lighthearted whistling and footsteps growing steadily louder.

"Elphaba!" Dad's voice called from down the hall. "Are you up here? I'm going to freshen up and then I'm joining that poker game in the second ballroom. If you come with me we'll wipe the floor with them!"

As Dad approached, I pulled away from Mom's arms and hastily tried to remove any traces of tears from my face as if it would give me any illusion of composure.

"Oh, you changed already—Elphaba?" he paused, finally close enough to register the scene he had strolled in on. "Why for the love of Oz has our baby girl been crying?"

"We'll talk about it later, Fiyero," she said simply, moving to put a comforting arm around my shoulder.

"Poppy what's the matter—"

"We broke up, okay? Zyaire and I broke up," I sniffed pitifully as Mom squeezed my shoulder.

"Oh…okay. Well, I'm going to kill him," Dad stated immediately, looking behind his shoulder towards the direction of the party.

"Daddy no—"

"Fiyero, you are _not_ going to kill him," Mom sighed tiredly.

"He's invited into our home and then he turns around and pulls this!? I was _just_ talking to his family too! I should—"

"No, Daddy _please_ don't talk to his family…" I begged, the very idea mortifying me.

"Am I supposed to do nothing?! Just go back to the party knowing that you're up here with a broken heart?" Dad blurted out, looking to Mom for support.

"Fiyero, love…let me handle this one, hm?" she requested softly. "Go back to the party, don't talk to his family. Poppy and I are done for the night…we'll be okay, I promise."

His angered expression softened slightly at her tone of voice, as if she had put a soothing spell over him. He glanced between Mom and me before his jaw finally unclenched and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright, Fae…" he relented with a sigh. He hesitated for a moment before opening his arms to me. I left Mom's hold to accept his invitation and he squeezed me in a tight hug, kissing the top of my head as he so often did.

"I don't know what happened, but I do know it's his loss. He could search all of Oz twice over and he won't find anyone half as incredible as you," Dad muttered into my ear. "I love you, Poppy girl."

"I love you too, Dad," I sighed, pulling out of the hug and giving him a sad but thankful smile.

He just nodded to Mom and entrusted me into her capable care before setting back down the hallway.

"Do you think he's going to kill Zyaire?" I mumbled to Mom.

"I sure hope not," she sighed, guiding me back into my room. "I'd prefer not to have to go on the lam with him if I can help it."

As Mom gingerly closed the door behind us, drew the curtains, and invited me to lay beside her on my bed, I pondered how she was able to forgive me so fast. A stranger tasked with describing Elphaba Tigelaar might use words such as unusual, formidable, even frightening. The word 'loving' wouldn't even cross their mind. But in truth, that attribute was the root from which all other facets of her personality stemmed. She loved intensely, and that was what _made_ her so unusual, so formidable, and so frightening. It's what made her who she was.

My mother was born with an uncommonly vast capacity for love into a world that would neither accept nor reciprocate it. The few that _did_ knew firsthand that there was nothing that she would not or could not do for those she held dear. If they let her, she'd go beyond the edges of Oz for them, fight for them, die for them, even kill for them if she had to.

She would outlet this infallible, ceaseless, unlimited love in a multitude of imperfect ways. In her rigid expectations for the tutoring students that others had been content to give up on. In her ferocity towards the council as she advocated for the voiceless in our community. In her devotion towards her intolerably righteous sister Nessarose in spite of their off and on estrangement. In her extraordinarily unlikely friendship with Auntie Glinda. In her undying love and passion for her husband. In her connection with her son who was so like her in so many ways. Tonight, I let her vent that affection upon her heartbroken daughter. As I huddled in her arms, sad but safe, I basked in that unshakable love with a sense of humbleness and gratitude.

"Dad was wrong, you know…" I finally mumbled over a lump in my throat after a long silence between us.

"About what?" she asked softly.

"Leaving Royce wasn't the worst part…this is."

A fresh outpouring of tears slid down my face as I said the words out loud. Royce never had the power to break my heart for he never had my heart to begin with. Now my heart nagged painfully as it settled itself into a heap of shattered shards within my chest. This was worse, much worse.

"I can't believe I'm a grown woman and I still come crying to my mom..." I said with an embarrassed sob. She moved a hand to my face and diligently brushed my tears away with her thumb.

"Oh, my sweet daughter…you know that my mother, your Grandmother Melena, died when I was very young. I only have a few memories of her, but there are still times in my life where I'd do anything to talk to her again," she said with an aching sense of longing. "So, for as long as I'm alive, no matter how old you get, you can _always_ come crying to me."

"Why couldn't I have just loved Royce?" I whined as she continued to brush away each tear that fell. "That would have been so much easier."

"You would have been miserable with Royce, my sweet," she reminded me. "The heart wants what it wants. You and Zyaire just had a connection from the day you met—"

"Then why is he giving up on us?" I countered unhappily. "I thought that he would love me enough to at least try—at least _consider_ a future here!"

"I've seen how he looks at you, I don't think the problem is him not loving you enough," she assured me.

"Then what?" I asked desperately, sitting up in bed to look at her directly. "What is it?"

Mom sat upright against my headboard and rested her hands in her lap.

"He's scared, honey. I think he's scared," she said with a simple shrug.

"But if he truly loved me, he wouldn't be scared! Like with you and Dad. _You_ weren't scared," I pointed out.

My mother then abruptly startled the life out of me as she threw her head back with an ear-splitting cackle. I steadied myself, jostled from the shock, and shot her an annoyed look. How could she be laughing at a time like this?

"What are you laughing at?" I pressed.

"Oh, Poppy. I was scared to death. _Petrified_ ," she informed me. "That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time!"

"Fine, but it's not like you were scared enough to _leave_ him—" I contended.

"Oh yes, I was. And I _did_ ," she interrupted.

"What?!"

"I left your father. It wasn't for very long, but I broke up with him in college after he told me he loved me for the first time. Even _that_ was scary enough to send me running. We were both heartbroken for a few weeks, then I eventually asked him to take me back and told him that I loved him too," she said in a tone so casual she could have been discussing the weather.

"But why would you leave him if you knew you loved him?" I asked in a befuddled tone. "I don't get it."

Her face softened a bit and she reached over to brush a thumb over my cheek.

"There are many reasons someone may leave somebody they love. In my case, well, I had grown up without a lot of love in my life. Accepting and _trusting_ that someone loved me was a difficult hurdle for me to pass. I thought that by ending things with him I was protecting myself from getting hurt…but being without him turned out to hurt even more," she explained.

"But once you cleared that hurdle…that was that, right? You knew you'd marry him?" I clarified.

"Nope. The first time he proposed to me I rejected him," she said bluntly.

" _What_?!"

"I told him no! Like I've been attempting to tell you…it's one thing to date a Tigelaar but a whole other thing to marry one. Being faced with becoming a wife, let alone a _queen,_ was just too much pressure at the time. I was no older than you are now when he asked and I had never pictured being royalty. He waited for me, and we stayed together as we continued our studies, but it took me a long time before I was able to reconsider. During that time, I did a lot of thinking about what I wanted out of life and, eventually, I came to the conclusion that the only thing I knew for sure was that I loved Fiyero and wanted us to be together always. No matter the changes, no matter the costs. So, one day, I simply requested that he try proposing again. Of course, we then impulsively and _thoughtlessly_ eloped a few months later and…you know the rest," she recounted with a wry smile.

I shook my head slowly. For my whole life, my parents had always seemed so effortlessly in love. To learn that their road to where they are now was windier and bumpier than I had always envisioned was difficult to process.

"You two seem so perfect…you make it look so easy…" I mumbled under my breath.

She laughed again, but it was kinder this time.

"Your father and I have been married for twenty-five years; we are _far_ from perfect. We fight over silly things, we can be overly co-dependent, we've made countless ruling mistakes, _parenting_ mistakes—" she chuckled faintly, taking a deep breath and shaking her head up at the ceiling as if she needed to find her words.

"You and your brother only know us as we are now, as your parents, as the king and queen with a quarter of a century of experience. You never knew us as idiot college kids who were thrown into running a country far too young. Then we found out we were expecting Liir only a few months into our marriage. When he came along, and you not long after, there were days we felt like we were completely in over our heads. We had no idea what we were doing…and the secret is, we still don't. We just hide it better," she smirked. "A perfect relationship is a fantasy. In real life, love can be difficult. But the important thing was that throughout everything, governing, raising children, just making it through the _day_ …your father and I had each other."

They had each other.

When I had accepted the role of heir, I thought that I'd want nothing else until I died. I hadn't realized that getting my dreams was a little more complicated than I had originally imagined. I hadn't realized that there'd be a kind of…cost…that came with it. I had told Zyaire earlier that being queen was the only thing I'd _ever_ wanted…but that wasn't true. I wanted something else too.

"I want what you and Dad have…" I whispered vulnerably. "I want to be queen with all my heart…but Mama? I want love too."

I wanted the throne and I wanted a partner to share it with. Somewhere deep down I knew that I'd never be completely fulfilled having one without the other. But…was that dreaming too far? My blurry gaze shifted to the basalt stone on my nightstand, a simple stone that had somehow accumulated so much meaning, and I understood an absolute truth. I didn't want to share my life with just anybody, I didn't want just any partner, I wanted Zyaire. Tragically, I was now surer of that than ever.

I wanted what I could never have.

"I want both."


	22. Something Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Implied depression / Major character injury (mention) / Hospitalization (mention) / Sex (brief mention) / Spider web (mention) / Parental death (brief mention)

◈ **Chapter 22: Something Broken** ◈

Accepting the fact that Zyaire and I had broken up was an impossible feat. The grief of it felt reminiscent of when he moved away from Vilnius all those years ago…only worse. We were adults now, we were in love, and there was no shrunken hearted mother to pin the blame on.

Going from seeing the man I loved nearly every day to not speaking to him at all was a jarring and painful transition. Royce and I had been together for over two years and I barely batted an eye when we split. Zyaire and I had been together for under six months and I now felt so overwhelmed with sorrow that there were days I could barely leave bed. I was losing my sleep, my appetite, and my ability to think of anything besides him. I would obsessively wonder what he was doing, if he was okay, if he was thinking about me. _Missing_ me.

I was certainly missing him.

I missed the way he never succeeded at swatting a fly. I missed his Ozian accent as he pronounced my last name. I missed teasing him for his green clothes. I missed brushing my thumb over the light stubble on his face in the evenings. I missed how he always smelled a little bit like the repair shop. I missed the sex. I missed his glasses. I missed his dorky laugh…

I missed how he'd stand on his bed and draw our initials in the condensation fogging up the skylight in his room. I missed the sparkly pattern that'd cast to his wall whenever moonlight refracted off the geode. I missed hearing him softly practice saying 'I love you' in Vinkun over and over to himself when he believed that I was sleeping.

My parents must have informed Liir about how I'd been roaming around the castle like a grief-stricken ghost because I received a thoughtful care package from him a few days after the breakup. It contained a bag of local coffee grounds, a summery hat, an Emerald City snow globe. It also had a card reminding me that I could 'talk to him about anything'. As kind as his gesture was, the gifts just reminded me of The Emerald City which consequently reminded me of Zyaire. At first, I stashed the gifts away in my closet, but when my room started smelling of coffee grounds, I gave them away to one of my favorite staff workers.

Dad was constantly in 'cheer up Poppy' mode now. He'd ask if I wanted to play games, offered to take me to my favorite restaurant, he even suggested we take a day trip to a lake near Kiamo Ko just the two of us. Mom refused to go to the lake anyhow. In the end, I just didn't have the energy to take him up on any of his offers.

Perhaps the only good thing to come out of that terrible night was the fact that Mom and I were on good terms again. Great terms, in fact. We'd read alongside each other in the same room, eat lunch together, and she even let me paint her nails, out of pity, I suspected. In a rare effort to respect my boundaries, perhaps hoping to preserve our fragile truce, she never brought up Zyaire.

One sweltering afternoon, we found ourselves in the dusty storage room adjacent to catacombs beneath the castle. We were organizing a city-wide clothing drive and Mom and I were tasked with finding things to donate towards it.

"A lot of this stuff has been down here since before you kids were born," Mom mentioned as she tied up her hair and rolled up her sleeves.

I cringed as she fearlessly knocked away some thick cobwebs with her bare hand and dragged out a cardboard box from the corner. It was coated with dust and had the label ' _Thanks but no thanks'_ scrawled on it in her handwriting.

"What in Oz is in there?" I frowned.

She offered a sarcastic smirk and pulled the box open, releasing a sudden explosion of ruffles and ribbon. I peered into the box to discover that it was stuffed to the brim with outfits designed for infants and toddlers, all of which were positively plastered in lace, sequins, and glitter.

"When it was announced that we had given birth to a baby girl, The Vinkus went a little overboard. We were gifted enough of these outfits to clothe you until the time you were three. It was a nice gesture, but I just couldn't stomach the idea of dressing you up like a fairy princess all the time," she grimaced. "Donation pile."

Glitter clung to my hands as I sifted through the tutus, bonnets, and booties with amusement. I had to agree with Mom, even for my standards, they were a bit much.

"Do you think they'll still fit me?" I jested.

"Turns out the joke was on me. Ever since you've been able to dress yourself you've been obsessed with pretty clothes," she laughed.

"Compared to you, _everyone_ is obsessed with clothes," I teased lightheartedly.

"Well, you know that I—"

"Yeah, yeah. You clash with everything," I scoffed. "But I still think that maybe some deep purples, earth tones, I mean even _pink_ —"

"You've been talking to your Auntie Glinda about me, haven't you?" she responded knowingly.

"We may exchange letters," I shrugged innocently.

"It's just as well. You somehow turned out more like her than me anyway. I wasn't sure what to do with you at first! A daughter so enthusiastic about shopping, crafting, _gardening_ —"

"You know, Mama? If you gave it a chance, I think you might enjoy gardening," I claimed.

"Now darling, you know that nothing grows for the wicked," she quipped with a dry smile. She opened a new box and sighed nostalgically as she pulled out a long infant's nightgown.

"Now, this is one that we dressed you in…" she said, fondly smoothing a hand over the satiny material. "I can't believe how little you were. I don't think I have the heart to donate this one…"

She set it aside with a wistful sigh. "You know you can save anything that you may want in the future for when you have children— _if_ you have children," she corrected herself lightly.

I glanced away as her offhand comment knocked the wind out of me. Our carefree conversation had been distracting me, but as always, I could never forget my despair for long.

"Right… _if_ …" I mumbled.

She looked up at me, noticing the shift in my tone, and I saw the realization dawn on her face.

"Oh, you know that's not what I meant. I only meant that you may not even _choose_ to have children. I didn't mean that—"

"No, I know what you meant, Mama," I interrupted her gently. "It's just that I'm going to have to find someone willing to marry me before I can even think about children. Or at least someone willing to entertain the idea of _hypothetically_ marrying me…so…"

I sat down on a crate in a bitter huff as my dark cloud returned. Mom observed me for a thoughtful moment.

"Have you talked to him at all?" she asked softly.

"Nope. Not a word," I responded with a miserable sigh.

"Maybe I—"

I picked up the closest thing to me, an old pointed hat, and held it up.

"Keep or donate?" I asked.

"…Keep."

Later that week at the tutoring center, it took tremendous effort to make it through my routine story time. To make matters worse, nearly every time I turned a page, I would mechanically glance over the heads of the children as if expecting to see Zyaire sitting in the back row. Content to torture myself, I continued this game as I packed up my corner afterwards, fantasizing about what might happen if I saw him come through the door. The next time I glanced up, I was startled to actually find someone standing before me. However, it wasn't Zyaire. It was Aelius, one of the young mathematics tutors.

"Jūs puikiai su jais," he said with an easy smile. _(You're great with them.)_

"Ačiū…" I said simply, filing the book I had just read back onto the shelf.

"Ta istorija buvo mano mėgstamiausia vaikystėje," he commented. _(That story was my favorite as a child.)_

"Mano irgi," I replied without much emotion. _(Mine too.)_

I wasn't trying to appear standoffish, but forcing an upbeat attitude for the kids when I felt so low-spirited had left me feeling quite drained.

"Negalėjau nepastebėti kad jūsų vaikino nebuvo…" he said with feigned nonchalance, as if he had not surely rehearsed the line in his head moments before he approached me. _(I couldn't help but notice that your boyfriend wasn't there…)_

He was about to ask me out, wasn't he?

"Ar galiu jus nuvesti vakarieniauti?" _(Can I take you to dinner?)_

Bingo. People were beginning to notice that I had broken up with Zyaire. Something about his request for a date not only irritated me, but it also caused me distress. It seemed that by being asked out again, a nail was being hammered into the coffin of my relationship without my consent. The universe was telling me that it was time to move on…or at least Aelius was.

"Ne, jūs negalite," I responded bluntly. _(No, you can't.)_

I was not ready to move on.

A full month had gone by since the party and there was still not a bit of contact between Zyaire and me. The divine weather that was now sweeping through The Vinkus seemed to only heighten my heartbreak. I felt betrayed by summer's arrival, as if the sunshine was mocking me for having no lover to delight in my favorite season with. The warmth bombarded me with memories of that first summer with Zyaire. Lazing around the repair shop on hot days, posing for pictures, buying fudge, pocketing poppies. The night at the river banks…when our fingers had barely touched.

With a stab of regret, I realized that I had never thought to ask him about that night. Whether or not he remembered that moment, if it had meant to him what it had for me, or if it had even happened at all. Now, I may never know.

That was perhaps the most painful aspect of all of this. There were still too many unsaid between Zyaire and me that we now may never get to say. For a relationship that has meant so much to me to end in the way it did felt so intolerably wrong. How had our story become one of lost potential? An unfinished painting, an abandoned sonnet, a half-finished song? Love stories that ended sadly could still be tragically beautiful if they had a proper finale, but maybe reality wasn't as similar to those kinds of stories as I had once fancied. Maybe there wasn't always a moral, a reason…or even a goodbye. Sometimes things just ended without the closure our hearts craved, and some chapters of our lives were left forever incomplete.

On a hot day in June, I welcomed a temporary respite from my anguish in the form of a particularly taxing day of work alongside my parents. The three of us were cramped into Dad's stuffy office, all feeling a bit on edge as we bickered about the best use of some grant money we had received. Our griping only ceased when the door opened unexpectedly to admit our faithful sentry Kirkan. The three of us looked up at him in confusion.

"Yes, Kirkan? What is it?" Dad asked in a disorientated tone.

"I apologize for my intrusion, and please forgive me if this is not my place, but I have learned of some news that may be of interest to you personally…" he said hesitantly, as if at war with himself on whether or not he should continue.

"What is it?" I asked concernedly.

"My husband Gerik works in the local hospital. He informed me that a patient by the name of Madame Alusia Andris was admitted a few days ago for something quite serious. He recognized her name from the recent event thrown here, she sat at your table, correct?"

"Why, yes. She did…" Dad answered in a grave tone.

I stood out of my chair, my blooding turning to ice as it pumped forcefully through my veins.

"Is she alright? Does he know if she's okay?" I pressed urgently.

"All that he was able to tell me was that she is still in hospital care…I apologize. I wish I knew more," he answered remorsefully.

We were all quiet for a moment, then Dad pulled out a sheet of his official stationery and began scribbling something down on it.

"Madame Alusia is a valued friend to the Tigelaars. We'll cover the medical charges," he said decisively, penning his signature at the bottom of the page and quickly sealing it an official envelope. "Please see that your husband gets this to the right people so they may forward the bill to us…and please see that we remain anonymous."

Kirkan stowed the envelope away safely with a stiff nod of understanding. I slowly sunk back into my chair and stared blankly at the floor as Kirkan quietly dismissed himself. I allowed myself to reflect on dear Great Grandmother Alusia, that intelligent, big-hearted, bold woman. I thought of the kindness she had always shown to me, and of how very treasured she was by her family…

"I don't know what I should do…" I admitted helplessly. I was aching to take action, but paralyzed by my predicament.

"You should go see them," Mom responded at once.

"Very funny," I laughed stiffly. When she raised her eyebrows at me, I registered that she wasn't kidding.

"Mom…you can't be serious!" I scoffed, standing out of my chair again to give her a wild look. "I can't just go see them, what if Zyaire is there?"

"Precisely. I think you need to go see Zyaire. I think that's what you need to do," she replied calmly.

"You're mad! I haven't spoken to him in a month! I'm the _last_ person he wants to see right now," I insisted. "Dad, back me up on this!"

"On the contrary, Poppy. I agree with your mother. I think you should go," he replied.

" _Dad_ —"

"Well, Poppy, I think you'll regret it if you do nothing!" he maintained.

"Just to show him that you're thinking about him—" Mom began.

"Of course, I'm thinking about him! That's all I've been _doing_ lately! Don't you realize? I can't face him, I can't. I'm not brave enough!" I appealed pleadingly, clutching at my chest where the thick shards of what was once my heart rattled about excruciatingly.

"Not brave enough? My daughter is not _brave_ enough?" Dad exclaimed. "That's the most brainless thing you've ever said! Poppy, the hardest time in my life was when my mom got sick. I don't know what kind of state Madame Alusia is in, but I do know that Zyaire is most likely in need of a friend right now. No matter what happened between the two of you, you are still my brave and caring girl, and I have never known you to turn your back on a friend in need."

I covered my face with my hands and made a frustrated sound. I hated the fact that he was right. This past month I had thought of nothing besides my own pain…but now I could only picture the pain Zyaire must be feeling right now.

"Fine! Fine, okay? I want to see him. But what am I supposed to do? It's not like I can just waltz into the repair shop unannounced after everything that's happened when I have no good reason to be there!" I argued.

"You won't be going for no reason," Dad said simply. "You'll be going as a customer."

"What in _Oz_ do you mean—"

Mom and I both shrieked loudly as a deafening _slam_ cut me off midsentence. There, in a crushed heap upon his desk, lay Dad's watch which he had just deliberately smashed with a heavy paperweight.

"Fiyero, have you lost your mind?!" Mom gasped, still clutching her chest from the shock.

"Dad, that watch was your _father's_!" I scolded him.

"Yes, it was, and it's very important to me," he said coolly.

He picked up the mess of shattered glass and loose gears that used to be his watch by the band and held it out towards me.

"Good thing you know a good repair shop."


	23. In Need of Repair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Advisory: Major character injury (stroke) (mention) / Hospitalization (mention) / Classism (mention)

◈ **Chapter 23: In Need of Repair** ◈

Though Dad's chaotic act had successfully spurred me to action, as I made my way into town, I had to consciously keep my nerve up with every step I took. Thus far in life, I had fired six of the country's most powerful men, broken off a very public engagement, and endured a terroristic threat on our home. However, as I headed towards the Andris Repair Shop, nothing felt quite so anxiety inducing as the prospect of facing my ex-boyfriend.

"I'm a customer…I'm a customer…" I repeated my mantra under my breath to myself as I marched through the streets with purpose. "Just a customer…"

However, the burden of fixing my father's watch was not the only thing motivating my step. As conflicted as I was, as much as I wanted to turn back, there was a more powerful force drawing me towards my destination. It was, as Dad had accurately predicted, my desire to support a person in crisis. The broken watch may have brought me to the door of the Andris Repair Shop, but that need to comfort a friend was what gave me the courage to push it open.

The familiar jingling of the bell announced my entrance, and though I had not known what to expect, I had not expected to come upon an entirely empty shop. Ike and Katarzyna were not behind the counter, nor was Great Grandmother Alusia in her wicker rocking chair. Logically, I had anticipated her chair being vacant, but that did not deter the chill from shooting up my spine at the sight. The shop was still hauntingly unchanged besides the absence of its keepers, and I felt strangely melancholy to observe that life had continued here without me. I felt like a stranger in this place, a mere customer, and a customer I was. However, I could not dwell in this sensation for long, for a familiar voice then called from up the crooked staircase.

"I'll uh—be with you in just a minute—um—tik…viena minutė!" _(Just one minute!)_

I'd know the voice anywhere. That Ozian accent attempting broken Vinkun, a voice that used to banter with me…a voice that used to murmur words of love. Upon hearing it, my resolve buckled, and all of that courage I had accumulated disintegrated like a pillar of sand. The sound of his voice had exposed a secret that I had been keeping from myself this past month. That I was still hopelessly, incurably, and tragically in love with Zyaire Andris.

Panic surged up my spine and a voice in my head told me to leave the watch and run—no— _forget_ about the watch and just get out! As audible footsteps trod down the steps, I turned around and grasped the door handle with a shaking hand.

"Sorry about that—atsiprašau—I just…" _(Sorry)_

I froze, my hand still on the door handle, as I realized that it was too late to run.

"…Poppy?"

I took a deep breath, released my hold on the handle, and slowly turned around to confront him face to face.

"Hey, Zyaire…" I addressed him in a shockingly steady voice.

He stood frozen in place at the base of the stairs with a hand shoved in his pocket, the surprise on his face clearly evident.

"Why…why are you here?" he asked breathlessly, quickly clearing his throat as he straightened his clothes.

"There's something in need of repair..." I mumbled quietly.

"What—"

"Dad smashed his watch—" I clarified quickly, scrambling to pull the destroyed watch out of my dress pocket and show it to him.

"Wow. He really did," he raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah…I'm a customer," I repeated my mantra out loud. Just a customer.

"Well then…welcome. Dėkojame—er—kad pasirinkote mūsų verslą," he enunciated slowly. _(Thank you—er—for choosing our business.)_

"You've been practicing," I pointed out with a sad smile, setting the broken watch aside on the counter.

"Not as much, lately."

We lapsed into a ringing silence as the many clocks on the wall audibly ticked away.

"Poppy—"

"I heard about Great Grandmother Alusia…" I came clean at once. "That…she was in the hospital."

A second, longer wave of silence crested over us and, after a steadying breath, I gave myself permission to really look at him. He was no less handsome…but he appeared to be in an awful state. There were dark circles under his eyes and it looked like he had not shaved in a while, but those things alone did not give me pause. It was his bloodshot and puffy eyes, visible even through his glasses, that made it clear to me that he must have been crying moments before he came downstairs.

"Zyaire…" I murmured, advancing a step towards him in concern. "Are you okay?"

My words seemed to set something off within him and he swallowed tightly as tears suddenly built in his eyes. He exhaled sharply and turned his face away, hastily wiping them away with the back of his hand. As Zyaire faltered in front of me, the past month was expunged from my memory until all that was left was my best friend standing before me in need.

"Do you want to be held right now?" I asked softly.

"Yes," he muttered in a strained voice with a nod of his head.

I immediately answered his call by closing the space between us and pulling him tightly into my arms as he began to break. He held me back just as strongly and I could feel his shoulders vibrate with restrained emotion.

"Don't hold it in…" I instructed soothingly.

"I'm sorry—" he mumbled hoarsely.

"And _don't_ apologize," I scolded gently. "Viskas gerai. It's alright…"

I did not pull away, content to give him as much time as he needed, and selfishly marveled at how wonderful it felt just to hold him again. I was determined to make every last moment last…just in case it was to be the last time I'd ever hold him. His trembling soon ceased, his tears subsided, and our embrace was over too fast as he carefully released his hold on me. I took a step back as he rubbed his eyes from under his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Is…is she…" I began to ask of Great Grandmother Alusia, but hesitated, not wanting to cause him further distress.

"Alive?" he correctly guessed. "Yeah, she is…but she was unconscious for a few days. They think that she may have had a stroke but they're still looking into it…"

"I'm so sorry, Zyaire. I can't imagine how scary that must have been," I shook my head seriously.

"Yeah…really scary," he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "She's able to talk now which they say is a good sign. Dad and Katarzyna are at the hospital but I came back to keep the shop open."

"I was wondering where they were at," I said. Zyaire paused and pursed his lips, his eyes glancing towards the wicker rocking chair for a solemn moment.

"They're not sure if she'll be able to walk after this," he revealed regretfully.

"Sweet Oz…"

"Yeah, but you know what she said?" he asked, letting out a sad, hushed laugh. "She said that it didn't matter if she ever walked again, because she had already danced with the king."

"That sounds like her," I replied with an aching smile.

"She keeps reminding us that we're not through with her yet…she's tough, you know? She's really tough," he mumbled.

"That she is."

I took a moment to look him up and down. I observed his unkempt appearance, his rumpled clothing…his sad eyes.

"You know, Zyaire…you look _terrible_ ," I informed him bluntly.

"Excuse me?" he replied with a startled chuckle, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Oh yeah, really terrible," I clicked my tongue, walking a loop around him as I scrutinized him closely. "It looks like you haven't slept or shaved in days! Is this any way for a reputable shopkeeper to present himself in front of a paying customer?"

I completed my circle and put my hands on my hips. "I know that break ups aren't a competition, but if they were, I'd _definitely_ be winning."

Despite Great Grandmother Alusia, our break up, and my open criticism of his appearance…he seemed pretty amused.

"Well, what would you propose I do then? Hm?" he challenged playfully. "If I'm so unpresentable?"

"You are _so_ lucky I am here because I'm way ahead of you…" I said diabolically, slowly extending my arm out to grab the broom that was leaning against the counter.

"You wouldn't…" he said, taking a step back.

"Oh, I _would_ ," I nodded seriously, turning the broom bristle side up.

Then, channeling the mischievous spirit of summer's past, I began sweeping at him madly, persistently attacking him with the bristles until he doubled over, seized by the hilarity of the moment.

"I surrender! I surrender!" he proclaimed through his laughter, making sure to hold his glasses to his face this time. "I forgot how handy you were with a broom!"

"It runs in the family," I shrugged, setting it aside smugly.

I brushed the dust off my hands and stood back to admire my handy work. Thick streaks of dust and lint clung to his wrinkled clothing, his glasses were askew, and bits of broom bristles stuck to his unkempt form. He was far more disheveled than before…but he was smiling.

"Perfect. Much better now," I murmured decisively, remarking on the undoubtable improvement. "You have to look your best, after all. You never know when—well—uh…you never know when someone cute might walk into the shop and catch your eye…do you?"

I glanced away and swallowed as I recalled our chance meeting as teens in this very shop. Just a girl running an errand with her Mom and a boy sweeping the floor. When I looked back Zyaire's smile had weakened and he was staring at me meaningfully.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

"Dad _really_ wrecked his watch," I reminded him.

"Poppy…why did you come here?" he pressed softly.

"Because—because…I haven't forgotten," I explained, gesturing vaguely around the shop. "I haven't forgotten what we decided here."

"Forgotten what?"

"That…" I shrugged helplessly, "…we're best friends."

He grew quiet and slowly slipped his hands into his pockets. One of his hands appeared to clench into a fist, as if he were holding something in his palm.

"How did you know?" he asked so quietly that it seemed like he could be talking to himself. "I was sitting up there thinking about Great Grandmother and I was feeling so alone and—I just thought to myself that the one person in all of Oz that I wanted to talk to at that moment…was you. Not a clock-tick later that little bell rang and there you stood...like magic."

The first thing I felt upon hearing this was an intense rush of joy, and I wondered for a moment if I had possibly stolen into one of my recent daydreams. The second thing I felt, as reality set back in, was an ache so intense that it nearly buckled my knees. He was telling me things that I had desperately been wanting to hear…yet our circumstances were unchanged. We were still where we were.

"Don't say that to me," I requested softly.

"Why not?" he asked. "It's the truth—"

"I'm not winning the breakup," I admitted with a devastated laugh, my lower lip beginning to tremble. "I'm not handling it well."

The shards of my heart, still as broken as Dad's watch, shifted agonizingly. I put a protective hand over my chest and sighed sharply.

"Zyaire, my heart is broken," I confessed openly.

"Poppy…" he mumbled, taking a few steps my way.

"No, it's okay. It really is," I said, holding up my hands instinctively so he wouldn't advance further. "Listen, Zyaire. Um…I want you to know that I heard you when you said that you were out, okay? I won't try to change your mind…but—but I do have a few things that I need to say."

I hadn't expected to find myself alone with Zyaire today, but now that I had his full attention, I'd forever regret it if I didn't at least attempt to say some of those unsaid things.

"I don't think you were completely fair with my heart," I stated in a blunt, yet in a gentle tone. "I broke off my engagement to be with you. From our first night together, I warned you. I _warned_ you that being in a relationship with me would have its challenges. I told you it wouldn't be easy, and I gave you an out which you didn't take. Then you made me—"

My voice cracked and I took a full breath as tears threatened to form.

"You made me fall in love with you, Zyaire. I let you in, I _trusted_ you with my heart, and then you backed out," I muttered hoarsely. "That—that wasn't fair to me. I hope you can forgive me for saying that but…I really needed to say it."

He didn't say anything, he merely cast his eyes downward in a concentrated look, creating that crease between his eyebrows that I had missed so much. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it a moment later. That was okay. I wasn't sure how I would have responded to that either. I had said my piece, gotten my semblance of closure…and now I needed to leave.

"That's all I really had to say so…" I trailed off. "Bill us for the watch and give the family my love, will you?"

He swallowed and nodded his head. I turned my back to him and took hold of the handle on the door…but I did not turn it. As I caught sight of my own eyes in the glass door, confronted with myself face to face, the image of my reflection seemed to trigger a sudden and daunting epiphany within me.

"No…that's _not_ all I had to say…" I said urgently, turning back around to face him.

The epiphany forbade me to leave this shop until I said one last thing. Something that had also gone unspoken. Something that was long, _long_ overdue.

"Zyaire…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of those times I should have stuck up for you and didn't. I should have confronted Darielle when she was gossiping about you in Vinkun. I should have called out Royce, and Oren, and Fedra...and…I really, _really_ should have told off that cruel couple at the party. You didn't deserve that kind of treatment. You never have. I think I always told myself that I was just picking my battles…but I should have realized that you were _always_ a battle worth picking. For too long I've been afraid of losing people's approval, but if staying silent is how I _get_ someone's approval, then I don't want it, no…I _can't_ want it anymore. It comes at much too high a cost," I shook my head and took a deep breath.

I had developed a bad habit for always finding a scapegoat for my troubles. Whether the fault was with other people, fate, or circumstances, I never seemed to blame myself. It was hard to confront the role I played in our breakup, but in order for me to grow, I had to clear the air. I had to grant my friend an apology that he'd been owed for years…and then strive to change for the better.

"I was supposed to be your friend and I failed you in those moments. I realize that now and…and I ask forgiveness for the things I've done you blame me for. I just needed you to know that I'm sorry, Zyaire. I am so sorry," I expressed earnestly, hoping it'd convey the full depth of remorse I felt. I could never be sorry enough.

"Thank you, Poppy…" Zyaire replied with a tiny, tragic smile. "But then I guess we know there's blame to share."

I returned his heartbreaking smile and slowly got the sense that he and I were headed towards our beautifully tragic finale. A lump grew in my throat, but I forced myself to speak over it to say what I needed to say.

"I want you to know that—that when it came to us…I was all in. I may not have said it when it mattered, but nothing that anyone ever said could have changed the way I felt about you. I hope that someday you're able to see yourself the way that I see you. You're not dime-a-dozen, you're not mediocre, Zyaire Andris, you are…extraordinary. I've always known that, and I always will."

I took him in for a desperate moment, grappling with the fact that it well may be that we will never meet again.

"Zyaire—even if this is how our story ends…just know you have rewritten mine by being my friend," I said hoarsely, swiping away the tears that had at last escaped. "And for what it's worth? I think you would have made a fine king."

A watch was not the only broken thing I had brought into the shop with me today, and while this was not the ending that I would have written for us, things between Zyaire and I seemed about as repaired as they could ever be. Perhaps not all broken things could be entirely fixed, no matter how skilled the craftsman, and no matter how much we may want. Now, as we drew nearer towards our story's end with a few more nails in the coffin and a few less unsaid things, there seemed only one last thing to say.

"Atsisveikinimas, Zyaire." _(Farewell, Zyaire.)_

"I think I remember that one," he said faintly.

"I thought that you might…" I whispered.

I soaked in one last look at my shop boy and, having fulfilled my role as a customer, took my leave from the repair shop.


End file.
